El Gwedh Enni A Star is Binding Me
by PuterPatty
Summary: The Sea calls constantly to Legolas. Can he stay? What holds him in Middle-earth? Updated finally! Mad Elf (c. TH) Alert! But who is he mad at? Find out in Chapter X - Revelations.
1. Discovery

Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to or are inspired by the Great Tolkien.

This story is being written thanks to two incredible people whom I feel the need to acknowledge.  
  
First, TreeHugger: She was the first to encourage me to try my hand at writing. Without her words, I would not have gained the courage to write this story. She also helped in translating my title. Thank you so much, nin mellon!  
  
And most definitely, Melian: She is an incredible person. I think we are kindred spirits. She has devoted so much of her time beta'ing, translating my title, assuring me that this story should be told, and giving me the confidence to do so. I feel she has invested herself in this story almost as much as I have. She has been and continues to be a trusted guide as I write this story. I owe you a world of gratitude, but that would still not be enough.  
  
Enjoy the story and please review! Thanks!  
  


**_El gwedh enni_  
(A) Star is binding me  
  
Chapter I–Discovery**

  
  
Legolas followed the now faint trail of white light with his eyes. He wondered about it—what it was, where it was going. To him, it looked like a star, a star that had grown tired of the heavens and decided to come down to rest upon the earth. But he quickly shook his head to free it from the absurdity of the thought, for stars lasted forever and their light never seemed to fade.  
  
At this his mind turned to his people. _Ai, Elbereth, if only this was true for the elves, for too quickly is our time in Middle-earth coming to an end._ It was with great sadness that Legolas pondered the journey he would soon make to the shores of Valinor. Though his heart desired it greatly, he had other desires as well. The fates were cruel to him—seven years ago, he had begun his journey with the Fellowship, and though it was difficult and fraught with danger, he did not regret his participation in the quest. He had seen first-hand and fought the great evil that inhabited Middle-earth and was sickened by the atrocities that both Sauron and Saruman had wrought on the land and its people. At the same time, he had beheld many of the wonders—places and beings alike—that Middle-earth still had to offer. It was the first time in his many years that he had experienced life so fully. But at the cry of that one lone gull, his soul was forfeited to another being, and he was now filled with emptiness because of it.   
  
However, Legolas would not make his journey across the sea yet. He still had some strength of heart and mind to tarry in Middle-earth. With each passing night though, Legolas felt his light fade a little. He knew some day soon he would have no choice but to leave behind those that he loved. _If only I was like Thranduil in this...I would have never let myself enjoy the companionship of the man, and most especially of the dwarf._ But it was his choice to open his heart to them, and it was an unspoken promise made to both that he would remain in Middle-earth for a while longer. With that settled, Legolas pulled his cloak tighter around his body to protect him against the slight chill of the early spring night. He let his mind drift into the world of dreams—dreams which he knew would once again be filled with the roar of waves crashing on the shore and gulls crying their sad sweet song, beckoning him to make his journey to the West.   
  


~~~ 

  
  
Legolas woke when the first rays of the sun graced his fair face with their warmth. As he stretched his body to remove the last remnants of sleep, he looked around to see where his two companions had decided to spend their night. Finally, his eyes caught their movements. One had chosen the beech tree beside his. The other was found in the same tree Legolas had chosen, only further down its branches. _Typical,_ Legolas thought, slightly irritated. _He takes his role much too seriously._  
  
"Will we journey further west today, or shall we return to the village, my prince?"   
  
Legolas scowled at the blatant use of his title. _He knows it annoys me as much as the dwarf does._ "We will return ere sunset tonight, but first let us journey a little more. I wish to see for myself the new life that has sprung forth in this land." His companions smiled at Legolas' request. They were both well aware of his growing need to see and feel connected to the land. They would not deny him this chance, for it had been many months since the prince had the opportunity to escape the duties of his position as Lord of the Elves of Ithilien.  
  
From the branch where he still stood, Legolas formed his lips into a tight circle and whistled shrilly. His companions followed suit and let loose whistles of their own. They had barely reached the forest floor when three horses came trotting towards them. Legolas smiled as Arod nuzzled his chest, and the elf scratched behind the horse's ears to return the greeting.   
  
"Come my friend, we will not journey long; tonight, you will find yourself enjoying the comforts of home," Legolas whispered to the horse and leapt lightly onto Arod's back. He looked back at his companions to find they had already mounted their horses and were ready to follow the prince's lead. Nodding to them both, he turned and coaxed Arod into a swift gallop.   
  


~~~

  
  
The three companions spent the morning riding west towards the Anduin. They were still several leagues from the banks of the great river, but it was not their intent to journey there. Legolas was only concerned with the progress the elves had made in restoring the life to the land of Ithilien. During the War of the Ring, orcs and other foul creatures had destroyed much of the beauty found in the forests and on the plains. At the request of Prince Faramir of Ithilien and with permission from his sire, King Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen , Legolas established a colony of elves in the forests of Ithilien. With the presence of the Eldar race, the once war-ravaged land was quickly regaining its beauty. The elves had first rid the area of the remaining bands of orcs that had still dwelt there. They had found it to be easy and enjoyable work as the orcs lacked a master and thus an overall purpose. They were disorganized and careless in their ways, and it took the elves merely a year to purge the land of their unwanted presence. Once the infestation was taken care of, the flora and fauna were eager to come into their fullness. Trees and flowers painted the landscape with vibrant colors of greens and crimsons and yellows and violets. The abundance of vegetation ensured the animals of ample food and shelter, and they quickly increased their numbers. If one had the patience to quietly sit and watch, the rough play of fox cubs or the graceful run of a stag through the forest could entertain them for several hours of the day.  
  
It was a doe and her fawn that Legolas currently watched from his low perch in a tree towering over a wide clearing in the forest. The fawn was just a few days old and still struggled to stand on his four lanky legs next to his mother. The mother was quite aware of their visitor, but was unafraid as the visitor was an elf and would bring no harm to her or her young one. She gingerly munched on the lush leafs of the bushes that were scattered throughout the clearing. Instinctually, the doe turned her head in Legolas' direction at the approach of one of his companions, despite the silent footfalls.   
  
"Legolas, Talathion has discovered something most unusual. He wishes you to come see."   
  
Legolas landed lightly on the grass. The fawn, startled by the sudden appearance of the elf, quickly lost his balance and fell clumsily to the ground. The mother eyed Legolas as if scolding him for his carelessness.   
  
"My apologies, friends," Legolas spoke to the animals as the fawn tried to regain his footing. The mother turned her head away in disdain and resumed her foraging of the leaves. "Is something wrong, Celebhil? I did not feel anything amiss here," he said, turning to his friend and gesturing for him to lead the way.   
  
"Nay, we are not in danger, but it is a strange sight. Neither of us expected to come across what we have," Celebhil said as he walked towards the far edge of the clearing.   
  
Legolas spotted the blond head of Talathion peeking above the dark green of the bushes that separated the clearing from the wood. As they passed silently through the foliage, Legolas could see that the elf stood rigidly, his eyes fixed upon the ground, the steel of his long black-handled knife glinting through the leaves.   
  
"I thought you said nothing was wrong, Celebhil. Talathion's actions speak otherwise," Legolas said, walking slightly faster to discover what held his warder's attention so completely.   
  
"He is simply protecting his prince, Legolas; you know this well," Celebhil resplied with light mirth in his voice. Talathion had been a trusted companion and guard to the youngest of Thranduil's sons since Legolas had reached his majority and participated in the hunting parties of Mirkwood. To him, the King had given the great responsibility of protecting the prince and had made it very clear that should any harm come to Legolas while under his watch, the same harm would be inflicted upon him. Talathion took his position seriously and had chosen to accompany Legolas to Ithilien. Legolas held his warder in the highest esteem, for he was a fierce warrior and a trusted advisor. It was the latter role that the prince appreciated most now that he had become Lord of the Elves of Ithilien. It was known to all those who had dwelt in Mirkwood that Legolas had spent most of his younger days not in the courts of his father, but in the trees beyond the palace walls. On the rare occasions when he could not escape the duties of his title, the prince paid little attention to the discussions of the council and instead passed the time planning ways in which to create mischief at the next royal feast. When Legolas had told Thranduil of his plans to establish an elven colony in Ithilien, the King had laughed heartily, but had given him leave to do so, glad the youngest prince had finally begun to embrace his nobility and desiring to see how his son would fare in the new role.   
  
"I do know this well," Legolas said dryly. "Just as he knows that I do not need his constant mothering," he finished softly, his dark blue eyes flashing as he approached the tall, muscular figure. The prince was indeed grateful to Talathion for the protection and advice he offered, but desired many times to be free of the ever-watchful eyes of the elder elf. For his part, Talathion was well aware of Legolas' desire, and this only made the warder more tenacious to his duty of protecting Thranduil's son.   
  
As Legolas finally drew clear of the last of the bushes, his eyes traced the invisible path of Talathion's gaze. While concern and wonder predominantly filled his mind, Legolas could not resist chuckling at the Eldar's reaction to the female whose naked body lay on the grass.   
  
"I doubt your knife will be needed, Talathion. It is quite obvious she bears no weapon," Legolas said as he knelt down to take a closer look at the unconscious female.   
  
"I see no harm in caution, my prince." The warder's tone reminded Legolas that he too would be wise to show care. "We know not who she is, nor how she came to be here. My concern is not so much for the female, but for others who may have brought her here or caused her to be in this state."   
  
"And yet your eyes were fixed upon her," Legolas observed. "But your words are true. It is a strange thing you have found. Know you of any who were said to be in this area?" The prince surveyed the clearing from where he still knelt beside the female. There was no sign of any other presence save the doe and her fawn and a hawk circling lazily in the blue sky.   
  
"Nay, the patrols have reported nothing out of the ordinary. And I have heard nothing of any missing elves," Talathion answered, noting that they had yet to determine whether the female was human or elf as her body was curled tightly in the fetal position and her long hair concealed much of her face.   
  
"It would be an ill thing indeed if she is one of our own. I do not see any wounds; she appears unhurt. Perhaps she is merely sleeping," Legolas wondered out loud as he reached to pull her hair back from her face.   
  
As his fingers brushed against the female's temple, Legolas suddenly found himself enveloped by a sudden brightness. Though it was painful at first because of its abruptness and intensity, the elf quickly found the experience to be quite agreeable. The light was white and hot and swirled around him. Tongues of light extended from an unknown source to caress his body, leaving Legolas with an overwhelming sensation of contentment and peace. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he was able to discern that he no longer knelt beside the female nor was he in the clearing. Instead, he seemed to be floating within a pocket of brilliance, fully surrounded by the radiating light. Beyond that he could see nothing; it was completely dark there, void of air and life. _But here…here, I am safe._  
  
"Legolas?"   
  
At the sound of Celebhil's voice, Legolas pulled his hand away from the female. He was back in the clearing. Nay, he had never left the clearing. Though he felt he had been held within the strange light for hours, he realized only a few moments had passed as the hawk was still enjoying his effortless flight above the clearing.   
  
"It was nothing," Legolas said softly, more to himself rather than to his companions, and shook his head to rid himself of the lingering feeling of the light.   
  
"She is not an elf," Celebhil remarked, gesturing to the woman's ears.   
  
Talathion rolled his eyes at the young elf's observation. "How did this mortal woman come this far unnoticed into the wood and so close to the colony? The patrols have not been lax in their duties," Talathion assured his prince.   
  
"I know not," Legolas replied, aware that an explanation was not expected of him. "It is indeed clear that she is not an elf, Celebhil," he continued, turning toward his friend whom he could always depend upon to state the obvious. "But I do not think she is a daughter of man," he finished as he removed his cloak.  
  
"It is true that neither of us have had the encounters with mortal women that you have, Legolas," Talathion said with a light jest. "But even the eyes of a dwarf could tell she is of the race of Men."  
  
"Her body may appear to be that of a mortal woman, my friends, but I sense there is something more, something different underneath her skin," Legolas explained as he bent down to wrap the woman in his cloak. A light flashed before him as soon as his hands touched her body, but he was not held by it as he had been before. Blinking his eyes, Legolas shifted the woman and enfolded her body fully in his cloak. He whistled for their horses as he rose from the ground, the woman held securely in his arms. "Come. We will bring her to the village where she can be examined by the healer. There we will discuss the possible explanations for her presence in this wood and decide her fate when she wakes and we have some answers."   
  
The matter resolved by the prince's terse words, the three elves moved to mount their horses. Legolas gently placed the woman on Arod's back and leapt onto the white horse. Holding her firmly, the prince urged Arod into a steady canter toward the village of the Elves of Ithilien. 


	2. Retaliation and Escape

Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to or were inspired by the Great Tolkien. 

**__ **

**_El gwedh enni_  
(A) Star is binding me  
**

**   
Chapter II – Retribution and Escape**

  
When they reached _Edhilbar_ that night, Legolas bade Celebhil to stable their horses and to see that they were provided with fresh water and hay. He and Talathion, who now carried the woman, made their way toward the Healing House, which was nestled within the northernmost bend of the small river that ran through the center of the elven village. In this time of peace, there were few who needed the attention of the healer, so the structure was small. The building contained only one room and was set upon the ground so that the injured could easily be brought there. In the towering oak trees above, the elves had built a dwelling place for Teldo, the healer, and several other quarters that could be used for recovering patients if the need arose. Most of the time, however, these rooms were empty or housed weary travelers or visitors to the elven realm.  
  
When the prince and his warder reached the Healing House, Legolas sounded the silver bell that sat on a stand beside the door, indicating to Teldo that there was need of his service. The healer descended from the trees on a small platform that was raised and lowered by a system of pulleys. Many of the communal buildings were equipped with such means of transport from the forest floor to the treetops, for mortals would occasionally visit the lord of _Edhilbar_ . It was Gimli, dwarf and elf-friend, and some of his people from the Glittering Caves who had helped the elves design and construct the pulley system, as they employed similar means in their mining operations.   
  
Teldo jumped off the platform before it reached the ground and ushered Legolas and Talathion into the Healing House. Once inside, Talathion laid the woman on the bed that stood in the corner nearest the door as Teldo lit several sconces within the room.   
  
"An unusual patient you bring to me this night, my lords. What is her story?" The healer asked.   
  
"We found her unconscious in the large clearing four leagues west of here. She appears to be uninjured, yet did not stir on our ride back," Legolas explained.   
  
Teldo listened closely to the prince's words as he removed the cloak wrapped around the woman. He examined her body meticulously, his eyes searching for cuts or contusions. He found nothing. He probed her body gently, his fingers searching for any hidden wounds. Again, he found nothing. He then turned his attention to her head. He ran his fingers along her skull, searching for any swelling that would suggest she had hit her head and thus give reason for her enduring unconsciousness. Once more, he found nothing.   
  
His first round of efforts having failed, Teldo began a second wave to discover what was amiss with the woman. He watched the rising and falling of her chest as she took in her breaths deeply and regularly. He laid his left ear near to her breast and could hear the strong, steady beat within. The healer was unable to discern anything that would cause her to be in the state that she was. Frustrated, Teldo raised his head and sighed. _Never have I seen a being, mortal or immortal, sleep so soundly without sufficient cause._ He lowered his head to peer at the soft features of the woman's face. With his thumb and forefinger, he gently slid open the lid of one of her eyes. His bright, grey eyes peered into her dark brown eye. Her pupils dilated and constricted as he moved his other hand back and forth, shading and unshading the light of the candles from her face. Satisfied that her body was both functioning and responding normally, Teldo dropped his hand. He once again gazed into her eye and was drawn into the deep, muddy pool. He searched once more, this time with his eyes and his mind, trying to find some sign of awareness, some sign of consciousness. _Nothing…there is nothing within._  
  
Withdrawing his mind and letting her eye fall shut, Teldo turned to the two elves waiting patiently to hear his conclusion. "Her body presents no cause for her condition. I am at a loss to explain why she does not awaken."   
  
"What is to be done?" asked Legolas.   
  
"For now, nothing but observation. I wish not to administer any herbs as her body is functioning perfectly. If she does not wake in a week's time, I will attempt to look into her mind, though I am hesitant to do so. I feel no presence within the body."   
  


~~~

  
  
She woke with a start. Something was wrong. Her existence was in danger. This place, it was not where she was supposed to be.   
  
She opened her eyes a sliver to discover where she was. It was dark. It was forever dark.   
  
Gradually, her sight adjusted to the darkness that filled the room.   
  
There in the corner…someone was there. Why had she not noticed him before? He seemed to shine, his light permeating the darkness.   
  
She watched him closely. He watched her. She did not think he noticed she had waked. He did not stir from his place in the corner. But he watched her. And she watched him.   
  
She knew she must leave this place. It was not safe here.   
  
The door was close, closer than he was to her. She could make her move to escape. But he would catch her. And then he would destroy her.   
  
She had no choice. She must remain here for now. She must wait for the right moment.   
  
But he must not find that she had awakened. Her existence depended upon it.   
  
She closed her eyes. She was surrounded by the darkness once more.   
  


~~~

  
  
Legolas entered the Healing House, Talathion and Celebhil following him. The prince had visited this place more times in the past four days than he had in the seven years that the building had stood on the earth. At least thrice daily, he had come to check on the woman, hoping to discover that she had awakened or at least stirred from her deep sleep. But each time, Teldo reported the same news—the woman's condition was no different from when she had been brought to the house. Legolas knew that the healer grew tired of his duty, though he would never admit it. It was a tedious task to keep watch over the woman, waiting for any sign of change. When they were able, Legolas and Celebhil had both taken turns spelling the healer of this responsibility. Nevertheless, the task fell to the healer for many hours of the day and for all of the night.   
  
This morning, however, Legolas entered the Healing House for a different reason. He and Talathion had been sparring. Although neither expected to have need of their talents in battle, they were loath to allow their skills to decline because of lack of use. As seasoned warriors, they also took much enjoyment from the exercise and the friendly competition.   
  
After several hundred years of sparring together and fighting beside each other in battle, the prince and the warder knew the maneuvers and tactics that the other would employ. Rarely did one manage to best the other, their practice sessions frequently ending in a draw.   
  
But the session this morning was different. Legolas was eager to exact his revenge on the warder for seeking rest in the same tree as he during their journey. The prince had deemed the action offensive and sought to teach his warder a lesson about etiquette. Once again, he felt it necessary to prove to Talathion that he was a masterful fighter and did not require the extensive protection that the warder insisted upon providing for him.   
  
When they began the match, Legolas was mindful of the importance to fight as he normally would. Any modification in his style, no matter how slight, would be noted by Talathion and would alert the warder that Legolas had an ulterior agenda. And so Legolas allowed himself to fall into their familiar rhythm of fighting. Musical clanging rang throughout the small clearing for all to hear as the steel of long knives struck one another over and over. The prince, though focused on evading and blocking the warder's attacks, was aware of the crowd who had gathered to watch their contest. _Talathion will not soon forget this lesson._ He was pleased so many had come this morning. Celebhil, his accomplice in the ruse, had done a cunning job of promoting the match, subtly urging the elves of _Edhilbar_ to come observe their prince and his warder in a test of skills and assuring them it would be unlike any they had ever witnessed before.   
  
As the spar continued, the prince bided his time, waiting for the right moment to unleash the frustration that had built over the years because of Talathion's persistent vigilance. Talathion continued to deliver blow after blow, swinging his knife swiftly and deftly to and fro. Legolas blocked each attack, catching the steel of the warder's knife with his own. Growing tired of being on the defensive, Legolas quickly ducked to his left and slid underneath another series of attacks by Talathion. The warder's direct and forceful actions propelled him past the crouched prince, and Talathion barely managed to turn around in time and raise his weapon to stop his opponent's knife only inches from his face. Legolas' right leg thrusted out at his opponent's exposed torso, forcing the warder to stagger backwards.   
  
Prince and warder became engaged in a complicated dance of spins and twists as Talathion advanced towards an awaiting Legolas. The white knife of Legolas took the offense for some time, but eventually Talathion's black-handled knife led the attacks. _Now, now is the time._ The youngest son of Thranduil baited the warder into believing he was gaining the advantage in the spar. The prince continued to block Talathion's determined blows, though only an inch from their intended target. The warder spun away, and quickly spun back, bending his arm and jabbing his elbow and shoulder hard into Legolas' upper body.   
  
Legolas stumbled and fell to the ground, his chest absorbing the full impact of Talathion's powerful blow. Smirking at the audible intake of air from the crowd of elves who had been so entranced by their fighting, Legolas gasped for air of his own, his breath having been momentarily stolen from his lungs. He lay to one side; his left arm clutched his body while his right hand, out of sight, kept its hold on his knife.   
  
Legolas watched carefully as Talathion once again move toward him, the warder's intent to continue the match written plainly on his face. The advancing elf stopped abruptly as he saw that Legolas made no attempt to regain his footing or dodge the eventual attack. Worry knit the warder's brow as it became apparent Legolas would not soon recover from the blow. Lowering his knife and his guard, Talathion stepped forward slowly and crouched next to Legolas to offer what aid he could to the fallen prince.   
  
The instant Talathion's knife fell to his side, Legolas rolled away and then sprang toward his victim, bringing his own knife up and lightly catching the warder's right cheek with the sharp steel. Talathion stood frozen, disbelieving, his hand on his cheek, red blood seeping through his fingers. Satisfied that Talathion had received his due, Legolas stepped back and with a smile bowed to his warder.   
  
The retribution had transpired as planned. Legolas had detected the obvious disgrace and shame Talathion felt, as the warder had believed he had seriously injured his prince, the one he had sworn to guard and protect. Anger and embarrassment now covered Talathion's features. The seasoned warrior had been deceived and defeated, and many elves had been witness to the great event. The prince was pleased.   
  
Thus was the reason Legolas, Celebhil and Talathion now entered the Healing House, though Talathion was quite reluctant to do so. The cut Legolas had given him was not deep, but the prince had instructed Talathion to have the wound tended to, knowing that it would only add to his humiliation. Celebhil had been eager to accompany them, anxious to see the warder experience more embarrassment. Legolas very much hoped the healer would find good reason to stitch the gash so that Talathion would be reminded of this day for some time.   
  
"Talathion has been gracious enough to provide you with a distraction, Teldo," Legolas said to the healer as they entered the house.   
  
The healer looked up from where he sat beside the bed in which the woman still lay unconscious. "It seems today has been an eventful day. Tell me, Talathion, how did you receive this cut?" Teldo asked, moving to the far side of the room where he kept his bandages and other supplies. "It has been many years since Legolas has even come close to besting you in your matches, and several more that you have ever needed my attention because of him doing so."   
  
"I received the wound not because my opponent was more skillful, but because he behaved without honor, in a manner most unbecoming a prince," Talathion replied, glaring at Legolas.   
  
"Then perhaps you will not see it fit to call me Prince any longer, Talathion. My friend, you have always taught me never to drop guard, even when you believe your opponent is down. Come allow Teldo to see to your wound and let the matter drop."   
  
The warder crossed the room and sat in the chair next to the healer's table. As Teldo worked to clean the wound, Legolas and Celebhil related to him that morning's events, demonstrating with great passion the entire match and taking great joy in reminding Talathion of it all.   
  
"I thought you said to let the matter drop, Legolas," Talathion said miserably.   
  
"He said _you_ should let the matter drop, Talathion. He did not say he would do so," Celebhil replied matter-of-factly. For once, Legolas was grateful to his friend for his unique observations.   
  
"Think you that he will need the gash stitched, Teldo?" Legolas asked the healer, hope coloring his voice.   
  
"Nay, your efforts there, my lord, have failed. Stitching will only take the wound all the longer to heal completely; no doubt that is what you wish," Teldo informed him, smiling at the youthful mischievousness of the prince.   
  
"I know not what you speak of; I ask only out of concern for my warder," Legolas replied, a little too innocently. "I simply feared he might be scarred."   
  
"Nay, no scar either, at least not on his face. Though I believe you have been successful in scarring his pride," Teldo chuckled and then became serious as he addressed his patient. "The dressing will need to remain only for the day." The healer laughed again as Legolas' face fell in disappointment. "Come, Legolas, sit. If I remember your story, Talathion delivered quite the blow to you. I would have a look at you as well."   
  
Legolas shook his head indignantly. "I merely exaggerated, and my response on the field was simply an act, meant to draw Talathion near."   
  
"You are certain?" The healer inquired. Legolas nodded his golden head several times in assurance. "Very well. Then there are other, more serious matters of which we should speak." He drew his eyes to the bed across the room.   
  
"The woman?" Legolas asked, turning to look at the figure that still lay in the bed nearest the door. "Has there been a change in her condition?"   
  
"I am not certain yet. I was about to examine her when you entered. She has still not awakened, but this morning I did sense something new within her."   
  
Legolas walked over to the bed and leaned over the woman's body. She looked very much the same as when he and Talathion had brought her into the Healing House four days ago, though she was no longer naked; Teldo had clothed her in a simple white dress. Sensing something, Legolas cocked his head and reached out to touch her brow.   
  
Without warning, the woman's hand reached out and grabbed the white handle of his knife. Legolas stood fixed, surprised by the sudden attack, the cold steel pressing on his neck.   
  
"My lord!" Talathion and Celebhil exclaimed together as they both jumped up from where they had been sitting. Their weapons were in their hands in a flash as they both began to make their way across the room toward their prince and the woman.   
  
"Hold," Legolas ordered, seeing the panic in the woman's eyes. "We are here to aid you only. You have no need to fear us," he said softly to the woman, switching to the Westron tongue.   
  
The woman made no move at the sound of his words. She held his gaze, and pressed the blade harder against his skin, a thin red line appearing under the pressure. Legolas, his body still frozen, tried to calm her again, this time speaking gently in Sindarin. "Peace, my lady. You are safe here." The woman still did not release him.   
  
They stood like that for some time: Legolas at the mercy of the blade, Talathion, Celebhil and Teldo halfway across the room, reluctant to draw closer for fear that they would startle the woman and she would use the sharp blade to end the prince's life. After what seemed an eternity, even for an elf, the woman drew the knife back, though it was still dangerously close to Legolas. She rose slowly from the bed.   
  
"Please, my lady, put the knife down. We mean you no harm." Legolas resumed his attempts to calm her and again, was unsuccessful.   
  
"Perhaps she is unable to hear," Celebhil offered.   
  
"She hears our words, Celebhil," Legolas corrected as he saw her eyes glance in the direction of the elf who had spoken and then return to hold his gaze again. "I think she does not understand them."   
  
"Draw away from her slowly, Legolas. She appears to be relaxing," Talathion said, taking a step closer.   
  
The woman, aware of the movement, brought the blade back to Legolas' neck. Her dark brown eyes pleaded for release.   
  
Legolas blinked, understanding her need. "Go," he mouthed the word, his eyes glancing toward the door. "Go."   
  
The woman took a step toward her escape, her brow knitted in confusion. Again, she pulled the knife a few inches away from Legolas.   
  
"Fall back, Legolas," Talathion said and darted across the room.   
  
Even if Legolas had had the ability to follow his warder's command, there was no time to execute the move as the woman quickly drew the blade upward, the sharp steel slicing into the prince's left cheek. Frightened, the woman turned and ran out of the Healing House and into the thick trees to the north. Talathion quickly moved to follow her, Celebhil on his heels.   
  
"Stay," Legolas ordered, authority ringing in his voice. Feeling the return of movement to his body, he brought his hand up.   
  
"But, my prince…," Celebhil started to question, though he had ceased his chase.   
  
"Stay," Legolas repeated. "She has done no harm save for this scratch. She does not wish for our aid. We will not pursue her."   
  
"Surely, Legolas, she has nowhere to go. She will not survive the wood, at least not long," Talathion argued, standing in the doorway, anxious to follow the woman.   
  
"She has made her choice. We will not pursue," the prince said once again, his tone leaving no room for argument.   
  
"It will be as you say," Talathion spoke reverently, nodding his head in acceptance of Legolas' words. Then, lifting his eyes to those of the prince, a spark ignited within his dark grey orbs. "Come, my prince, allow Teldo to tend to your scratch. It appears _you_ may need stitches."   
  
  
  


**Author's note and Response to Reviewers:**

  
_Edhilbar: _Dwelling of (the) Elves. Er, at least, I think. I made this word up, though it does sound quite familar to me. I have not ran this by my fabulous beta reader, so let me know if it's wrong or if it has already been used.   
  
The mysterious woman has awakened. Chapter three is almost ready, one last section to write and then off to the great beta in the sky.  
  
**Melian:** My first reviewer! And such kind words you had for me. Thank you again for both beta'ing and reviewing. You're awesome! Talathion is great; I think he enjoys getting under Legolas' skin. Who wouldn't? Gimli will eventually come to take his turn in annoying the prince...er, I think. I love elf/dwarf banter, but I'm hesitant to write it. I should start practicing my insults now.  
  
**TreeHugger:** Well, I figured that since you have convinced me of the glory of your Glory story, then I need to at least try and convince you that good Legomances do exist. I hope this will become one of them. Thanks for noticing the one-liners! They made me laugh, too. The "encounters with the mortal women" is my favorite--yeah, I think Talathion was referring to me! You and Al both know how much I love Legolas' cute little elfbutt. How quickly do I write? Well..., I'm not sure. I'm pretty slow right now. But I'll try my hardest. Thanks for the review!   
  
**Ista of the Dreamers:** Thank you for reviewing! Yes, I did try really hard to pack some deeper meaning in that chapter. I'm so glad you picked up on that. There will be much more of that to come.  
  
**Alliwantisanelfforchristmas:** You know, I just realized that everytime you log in, you have to type your entire name! Do you ever regret choosing such a long name? I love it, but I deem you "Al of the Commas" from now on. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to log in and review! How was my comma usage by the way? I'm glad I kept you guessing their identities--I worked hard on being vague. Another one who enjoyed Legolas' encounters with mortal women! You know, you're one of those women, too. After all, you've got him staying at your house. So when do I get to elfsit? I'll be gentle, I promise!  
  
Don't forget--drop me a review and let me know your thoughts. I know my character and storyline put me dangerously close to MarySue territory, and I'll even admit that there will be elements of such in this fic. (There will be good explanations for this, but all in due time, all in due time....) I am depending on all of you who are reading this to be my warder and keep me out of there. 


	3. Longing

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to or were inspired by the Great Tolkien.  
  
Many thanks to Melian for her sheer awesomeness of beta'ing. It's great to bounce ideas off you.   
Also, much thanks to the grammar gamma, al, and her lovely assistant, Legolas. Thanks for your insights, catching my typos, and stealing my commas. (Can I have them back for next chapter?)  
  
  


_**El gwedh enni**_  
(A) Star is binding me  
  
Chapter III – Longing

  
  
Starlight illuminated her face, and she bathed in its unending glory, comforted by its familiar warmth. She smiled, remembering…almost.  
  
A sudden low growl shook her from her thoughts. She was left with only the fleeting memory.   
  
She shivered. It was cold, as it was every night.   
  
She heard the growl again and clutched her belly. She was hungry. She would have to find something to sustain her body.   
  
She looked up toward the sky. Her eyes reflected the radiance of the stars. Longing filled her heart, her soul.   
  
She lay down in the soft grass, stretching her body fully, seeking to gather what warmth the starlight offered.   
  
She shivered again. They were too far away.   
  
She curled her body tightly. It was cold. She closed her eyes. She could still see them, though she knew she would never be with them again.   
  


~~~

  
  
Lilting melodies ornamented by gentle harmonies were sung throughout the entire village. The elves raised their fair voices in joyful song, celebrating the full arrival of spring. Now was the time for festivities, as planting of the new crops would begin in the morning. There would be little time for song and dance and play in the weeks to come.   
  
The melodies weaved together seamlessly. As one theme came to a close another would rise, echoing the previous theme, eventually adding its own flourishes and embellishments, and ultimately evolving into a new, yet familiar, tune. The music colored the air, and all the elves took turns painting the song with their voices.   
  
_All save one._ Far from the heart of the village, the prince sat high in his tree, his back leaning against the thick trunk, his legs stretching out before him, observing the merriment. He longed to add his own tenor voice to the chorus, but he knew the song that would sound forth, and he did not wish to hear it. The melodies sung tonight by the elves of _Edhilbar_ manifested the song of life. His song would only expose the longing of his soul. He would not suffer it to be intoned.   
  
Seeking reprieve from his melancholy, Legolas looked toward the stars, and their melody stirred deep within his soul. It was nearly drowned by the deafening melody that dominated his song, a melody whose notes rolled in and out much like waves crashing on the seashore. He clung more tightly to the soothing melody of the stars. It would be his lifeline this night. He took comfort in the knowledge that their light would continue to shine upon Arda until the end of the Great Song of Iluvatar. _If only my light would do the same. _   
  
The elf rose and jumped down from the branch onto his balcony. It would not do for him to stay here tonight. The festive music would serve only to tear his heart in two. No one would mind his absence tonight, for they knew the affliction their prince endured.   
  
Legolas grabbed his bow and quiver and his cloak from his private chambers. As he left the room, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and his hand strayed up to touch his face. Teldo had removed the stitches only yesterday, and though the flesh was still slightly tender, the gash was barely noticeable. Legolas sighed as he considered the ultimate outcome of his retaliation. _If it had not been for the woman, all would have gone as planned._ She had given him a gash much deeper than he had given to Talathion. The warder's wound had completely healed days ago while Legolas' wound had remained stitched for three days. He scowled as he recalled how the elves had whispered for several days about the mortal woman who had held their prince hostage and marred his handsome face. They were supposed to have been composing and singing songs about his cunning victory over Talathion. Celebhil had tried valiantly to shift the topic of the hushed conversations back to the contest, but the elves persisted, questioning the prince's friend about what had transpired in the Healing House. Legolas shrugged his shoulders at the memory, attributing the final result not to lack of effort or planning on his part, but to the cruel humor of fate.   
  
Legolas climbed higher up the branches of the magnificent oak. The prince's dwelling had been built in the ancient tree. Its song had called to him from the moment he and a small scouting party had decided that this part of the forest would be the best location in which to establish their elven village. The trees were tall and well rooted, and many sturdy branches protruded from their trunks, providing strong foundations upon which the dwellings of the elves could be built. Those trees that were not well suited to support structures had graciously given their wood to the elves to use in construction of _Edhilbar_. Many of the houses had been built within the trees on the east side of the river; the Healing House was there as well as the Common Hall where the prince hosted feasts and formal celebrations. Only a small number of houses had been built on the west side. The prince's oak stood tall as a tower in the north, and his guesthouses surrounded it. His warder's dwelling was located there as well, much too close to Legolas' liking and much too far in Talathion's opinion. Encircling the prince's mighty oak were a few other dwellings in which the attendants and close friends and cousins of the prince resided. In truth, the prince, who favored solitude as of late, had desired that only his dwelling be located on the west banks of the river, but Talathion had strongly counseled against it. The elf respected tradition to the highest degree, and tradition held that royalty's place was in the center of a community as it was integral to the life of such. Furthermore, it was not wise tactically for royalty to reside on the outskirts, as they would be vulnerable should an attack occur. After much heated discussion, the prince and his warder had eventually compromised.   
  
Legolas bounded from branch to branch mindlessly, knowing that the trees would stretch their limbs to catch him. Moving swiftly and silently among their boughs, the prince smiled as he felt the rush of air on his face, his long golden hair streaming out behind him. The musical voices of the elves steadily faded from his hearing, though the trees carried their melodies. The joyous sound of the song in the air fueled Legolas' desire to draw farther away from the village, and he picked up his pace.   
  
Eventually he came to his destination, the glade in the north nearly two leagues from the village. He jumped lightly down from the trees and landed in the soft, cool grass. Closing his eyes, Legolas stretched out his elven senses and listened to the sounds around him. He could hear the soft babbling of cascading water from the far end of the glade. He traced the path of the water in his mind. Here, it was a stream that flowed gently through the glade. The stream would become the river that ran its course through the heart of _Edhilbar_ as tributaries fed into it further south. The river would meet with the Anduin, and the Anduin.... _Alas, the Anduin leads to the Sea._  
  
Legolas shook his head, furious within himself. _I came here to get away from such thoughts!_ Refocusing his efforts and his mind, Legolas listened closely for the melody he knew he would find here. The sound of water faded, and finally his elven senses discovered the ethereal tune. Legolas opened his eyes and looked around the glade. The dark green grass and shrubbery emitted a subtle glow, and reflections of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of tiny points of light shimmered in the flowing water of the stream. Legolas walked toward the lone willow in the center of the glade and climbed into its top-most branches. The long, darkened tresses that hung from its twisted branches immediately enveloped him. Finding a small opening in the thick green blanket through which he could stargaze, Legolas leaned back and rested his head against the soft bark of the young tree. He sighed. He was content. He soon found himself walking the paths of elven dreams.   
  


~~~

  
  
Celebhil gathered his clothes from where they were strewn about the west bank of the river and ran in a mad dash toward his dwelling. He was late, and he was sure Talathion would be furious with him for it. _Legolas is right. That elf does take things much too seriously._ Today was not a good day to be late, but even if he did incur the wrath of the prince's warder, it had been worth it. Bounding up the branches and landing on his balcony, he looked back and gazed at the naked figure of the elf who still slept peacefully underneath a cottonwood. He smiled, remembering the bliss he had experienced the night before, and took comfort in the fact that he would not be the last elf to make his appearance that morning. Pulling on fresh trousers and a tunic, and checking that his silver blond hair was somewhat presentable, he left his dwelling and crossed over the bridge to join those elves already assembled to begin the spring plantings.   
  
"Finally, one of the missing has decided to grace us with his presence. A little too much merry-making last night, Celebhil?"   
  
Celebhil smiled sheepishly at the warder's question. It was clear from Talathion's tone that he was highly annoyed with the young elf, but he was not yet angry, or at least did not show it if he was. "There is much to accomplish today, my lord. Should we not set out? I volunteer to lead a group into the south fields," Celebhil said in his most honorable voice, hoping his offer would be accepted and that he would succeed in avoiding the warder's ire for the day.   
  
"Nay, I require your expertise in the fields west," the warder's voice spoke, crushing the hopes of the elf. "Where is Legolas?" He questioned abruptly, looking around the group of elves who stood patiently waiting for the day's tasks to begin.   
  
Celebhil's eyes grew wide with surprise. _This is a first!_ The warder always seemed to know the whereabouts of his prince. At those times when Legolas did succeed in escaping out from underneath his warder's ever watchful eyes, Talathion had a fairly good idea where the prince had gone, and it usually did not take him long to find him if he felt it necessary to do so. Now Talathion was admitting to not only Celebhil, but also to almost all those who resided in _Edhilbar_ that he had failed in his duty. _Perhaps not failed, but certainly not up to his usual par. _   
  
"I know not where the prince is, Talathion. Is not that _your_ responsibility to know?" The warder's dark grey eyes flashed angrily at Celebhil's response. Celebhil smirked. _Legolas will be sorely disappointed he missed this._  
  
"It is the _prince's_ responsibility to conduct himself in a manner that is fitting of his title. He is well aware of the importance of this day. It is his duty to be present here as we begin the spring plantings." Talathion's brusque tone warned Celebhil that he was not in the mood to be mocked, and Celebhil was wise enough to take this warning seriously.   
  
"Truthfully, I know not where Legolas is, Talathion. I have not seen him since he left the feast last night."   
  
The warder grunted at Celebhil's words, but nodded his head to indicate that he believed the elf and did not hold him responsible for the prince's absence. Talathion stepped away from the group of elves and gestured to Celebhil that he should follow.   
  
"Last night was difficult for him," Talathion spoke in a hushed tone.   
  
"As it is every year. This is nothing new," Celebhil observed.   
  
Talathion bowed his head and closed his eyes for a long moment. "There are plenty of others to accomplish today's tasks. We will go search for him," the warder declared, bringing his gaze up to meet the younger elf's.   
  
"I do not think that is wise. Legolas should not be disturbed," Celebhil counseled.  
  
"It is my duty to decide what is in the prince's best interest," Talathion said harshly. "Legolas can not be left alone. I will not lose him," the warder finished, conviction in his voice, a distant look in his eyes.  
  
"And what will you say when you find him? You can not hold him here. The sea is calling him, and he cannot resist it for long. Nothing you say or do will change that."  
  
"I can try."  
  
"You have tried."  
  
Several uncomfortable minutes passed for Celebhil as Talathion seemed to judge the truth of his words, and the warder's dark grey eyes locked onto Celebhil's green.  
  
Finally, Talathion released him from the contest of stares. "He should not suffer this alone. You, at least, should go and find him. He will need your friendship," the warder said softly, concern coloring his voice.   
  
Celebhil shook his head sadly. "Legolas chooses to endure his burden without assistance. My company would only cause him to draw away from us more. Neither of us wishes for this." It grieved the prince's friend greatly that he could not offer Legolas whatever it was he needed to ease the longing in his soul. Celebhil understood, however, that during times when the longing was at its worst, his presence only served to remind Legolas of happier days when he had not heard the constant calling of the sea. He believed the prince envied him, as he did not yet hear its call, and so he knew it was best to leave Legolas to himself at such times. "He will return when he has some control over the song again."   
  
"You are a true friend to him, Celebhil. You speak wisdom," Talathion consoled, leading the way back to the elves who were now assembled in four groups. "You may lead the south team, if you still wish."   
  
"With your permission, I would lead the north team. I do have an idea where Legolas has gone. If he has sought solace there, then I can ensure that he is not disturbed."   
  
"Very well, Celebhil," Talathion said, as he gathered his team to move into the woods west of the village. "I entrust to you the prince's well-being."   
  


~~~

  
  
Legolas was trapped in the willow tree. He had intended to rise an hour before dawn and arrive at the village in time to organize and lead the spring planting. He was annoyed that he had allowed himself to be caught unawares and in this situation in the first place. His primary oversight had been his lack of attention to his surroundings. _I should have sensed this presence._ Secondly, he had erred in choosing the willow tree in which to stargaze, as it was far from any other trees to which he could leap and thus make his way back to _Edhilbar_ unseen. His third mistake had been allowing himself to drift into elven dreams. Grappling with the call of the sea always exhausted him, and his mind had been too consumed to alert him to the time of day.   
  
It was a song that had eventually awakened the elf that morning. He was still walking in dreams when he first became aware of it. Initially he thought he was hearing it in his mind, for it was the same melody that he had heard during the night when he drifted into sleep. He soon realized, however, that the song was coming from somewhere outside him, and Legolas extended his elven senses to the surrounding world. It was then that he became aware of the bright sunlight warming his face and realized that he had overslept. He pulled himself out of his dream, blinking several times to bring focus to his eyes. Legolas was filled with bewilderment as he could still hear the song. It was nearly two hours after dawn, and the stars had long ago been hidden by the brightness of the Sun.   
  
Legolas listened closely to the one singing and he quickly became entranced by the melody. The singer sang the song with great empathy, the music pouring forth from the innermost reaches of the heart. There were no words to the song, for it needed none to impart its message. Legolas could feel it in his bones as the singer's voice gently caressed the notes of the fluid melody, expressing great trepidation, lasting ache, and deep desire. The clear, delicate timbre rang throughout the glade, and the soft inflection intoned in the song stirred deep emotions of compassion and peace within Legolas.   
  
Creeping out to the end of the branch, Legolas peered through the thick curtain of leaves. He discovered the source of the voice to be the same woman who had fled from _Edhilbar_ four days ago. He was not surprised to learn that it was her singing as she sat on the far bank of the stream. He was shocked, however, that she was still somewhat hale. As it was yet early spring, there was little food to be found in the forest. The trees and bushes that grew along the edge of the glade had yet to bear fruit and berries. Indeed, it looked as if she had not eaten for days. Her face was sunken in, her cheek bones much too defined to be natural. She still wore the white shift that Teldo had clothed her in, and even though the garment was designed to be loose fitting, Legolas could tell her body suffered from lack of sustenance. Still, it did not appear that she lacked for energy.   
  
Legolas knew that if he left the cover of the tree and made for the wood, the woman would easily spot him. He did not fear her, for she was merely a woman, but he feared what his response would be. He was still perplexed as to why he had been unable to move, to defend himself, when she had held him at his knife's edge. She had cast no spell or enchantment that he could detect. Legolas decided it would be best to wait, concealed in the tree, until the woman either left the glade or fell asleep, whichever came first. Besides which, he could learn much about this mysterious woman by observing her for the day.   
  
The woman eventually ceased her singing and moved from the stream to the bushes behind her. She bent down and picked a red flower from a shrub which had already begun to blossom. She smelled the flower and then proceeded to place the tender bud in her mouth. Her face contorted in disgust, but she continued to chew, swallowing carefully. _She must indeed be hungry._ The blossoms of lingonberry were not poisonous, but they tasted tart, almost as much as the berry that the bush would produce in the summer. Legolas watched as the woman stood beside the bush for a long moment. She seemed to consider if the unpleasant taste of the blossom outweighed the nutrients it could provide her with. She decided on the latter rather than the former as she bent down to pick more of the blossoms. After gathering several of the blossoms, she sat beside the stream once again and slowly ate the flowers.   
  
The rest of the morning and much of the afternoon were quite tiresome for both Legolas and the woman. After her small meal, the woman had crossed the stream and walked around the rest of the glade, searching for other, more tasteful vegetation. She had found several other bushes that were also blossoming early. Though the blossoms provided her with much-needed nutrients, Legolas could tell they did not satisfy her hunger. After her foraging, the woman had simply sat beside the stream, watching the flow of water, occasionally dangling her feet in it.   
  
The late afternoon had provided Legolas with entertainment of sorts. The woman gathered some fallen limbs and sat underneath the willow tree. She arranged the limbs in a pile, and then proceeded to try and start a fire, or so Legolas presumed. She was failing miserably. _Her technique is as bad as Pippin's._ Her attempts with the twigs unsuccessful, she eventually tried to spark a flame using two rocks, two wet rocks. By nightfall, she had finally given up.   
  
It was now late in the night, and Legolas was anxious to return to _Edhilbar_. The woman was still awake, sitting halfway between the stream and the willow, her legs pulled up to her chest and her head upturned. An owl's screech from the forest startled the woman. She got up and quickly went to the bank of the stream. She moved and lifted some rocks and finally found what she had been looking for—a long, white knife. _My knife._  
  
Returning to the willow, the woman lay down with her back against the trunk. Her hand still clutching his knife, the woman curled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her chest and watched the dark shadows of the forest. After some time, her eyes finally fell shut. Legolas watched her closely. When he was sure the woman had fallen asleep, he landed softly on the ground before her, being needlessly careful not to make a noise. He peered down at the sleeping figure and studied the situation cautiously. Her hand had relaxed the grip it held on the handle of his knife. He could most certainly take it without disturbing her. The prince considered the situation once more. Finally, Legolas bent down, placed his cloak gently over the woman, and left.   
  
  


**Response to Reviewers**

  
  
Many thanks to all of you who are reading this and to those who have reviewed. You don't know how fulfilling it is to see such great, positive comments from my favorite authors! And to those who have already added me and/or this story to your favorites, I'm so honored! I hope I don't disappoint. I'm hurrying as fast as I can with the next chapter, but please give me time for proper development.   
  
**Nebride:** There are indeed stories of Legolas' encounters with mortal woman. I've come across many on this site. BTW, some of them are really good; Ista's, for instance--go find it in my favorites. Thanks for begging me to post--now I'm begging you to get Legolas and Alede together!  
  
**Al:** Legolas does indeed hold a grudge, I'll be careful with him. Intriging--Supervised get-togethers? Hmmm, can I request that it be Elladan and Elrohir? We could have quite the foursome. ;)  
  
**Isadore Spindle:** Wow, a canon-fanatic finds my story interesting. I'm so happy! Although I'm sure you'll be disappointed to learn that the woman and Legolas will eventually be transported back in time to join the Fellowship. Yup, that mean two Legolases...Legoli(?)...and a woman in the Fellowship. What fun! Elrond will be furious with me for ruining his numerology. Just kidding--*chants "You shall count to nine, nine is the number of your counting. You shall not count to ten, nor to eleven. Nine is the number of the Fellowship." (copyright Elrond and Miss Cam of OFUM)  
  
**AlexisRayette:** I _can_ imagine how refreshing and uplifting it is to scour ff.net in search of good Legomances and then finally find one. I've spent hours doing it myself. You can find other good Legomances in my favorites. And GreyLadyBast just started one that looks to be very promising, but she's very cynical about the whole Legomance genre--go read it and set her straight. It's called _For the Love of the Lady_  
  
**TreeHugger:** It is very dwarvish of the dwarf. I think it's the only way Legolas would ever manage to get Gimli up in a tree. There should be enough information to answer your question about who was in the room when she woke up; go back and reread it, carefully. I'm typing as fast as I can. The bug has bitten deeply, almost as deeply as I bit Legolas....  
  
**Irena:** I'm glad you found it. Yes, she is "nekkid, reely nekkid." Settle in a little longer. It will some time before I even begin to answer your questions. Mwuahahaha. I can be just as cruel as you, you evil, evil woman. Put Legolas back together again, PLEASE!  
  
**Melian:** The spar with Legolas and Talathion was quite unexpected. I didn't know about it until Legoals--Legolas' evil identical twin and my muse--told me about it one night. And I think Thranduil would have enjoyed Legolas' ruse. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree afterall.  
  
**YellowSun:** You were "asked" to read my story. Um, didn't I have Legoals sight you with an arrow, which basically forced you to come read this? And not a "big Lord of the Rings" fan? That's the understatement of the century. Yeah, you better duck under the desk! But thanks for reading it and promising to come back, I'll try to make it interesting for you!  
  
**Ithilien:** There will be much sea-longing in this fic; don't worry there. As for your MarySue warnings-I know I can trust you to let me know if she becomes one. I'm trying my hardest to avoid that, but must admit, there are some MS elements in this story. If you stick with me though, you'll find that there are very good explanations for them. Even if she does become a MarySue, I think she'll be tolerable as I promise she won't steal the thunder from any of Tolkien's characters.  
  
Don't forget to review.


	4. Memories

**Disclaimer:** All characters and places belong to or are inspired by Tolkien.  
  
**A/N:** A few things before we get started:   
  
Tilion is the Maia who steers the Moon. Not a major plot point, but it was pointed out to me it could create confusion.   
  
I wanted to give you a timeframe for when this story is taking place. Obviously, it's Post-RotK (that means after the movies YellowSun), seven years after the destruction of the Ring. (Oops! Sorry YellowSun, I just ruined it for you, didn't I? Legoals: Like she cares.) But the thing you should be aware of is that it's spring, very early spring. The mysterious woman was found on March 13—my birthday, but that is not why that date is significant; it's merely coincidence. True to form, I'm not going to tell you why that date is noteworthy; you'll have to figure it out for yourselves. Go check your timeline in the appendix of RotK and do some inferring. If you still don't get it, tell me in a review and I'll let you know in the next chapter.  
  
Flashbacks set off in "" and "" and in italics.   
  
  
  


**_El gwedh enni_  
(A) Star is binding me  
  
Chapter IV – Memories**

  
  
Entranced by the fire, Talathion studied the dance of the flames, attempting to predict their next move. The flickering light threw dark shadows across his face, and a thick cloud of smoke hung about him. The burning wood snapped and popped and held him in a conversation he had no desire to take part in. He tried to concentrate on the voices around him, their talk filled with mirth and laughter. A jest was made at his expense, and he half-smiled but had not the presence of mind or heart to return the quip. The voices quickly became hushed, and a period of awkward silence followed until he finally stood and moved slowly away from the fire. _Their hearts are yet untainted. I wish not that they sacrifice their joy because darkness invades me this night._   
  
As he continued walking away from the warmth and the light of the fire, Talathion began reliving that awful week in his mind. Enough years had not yet passed to mercifully cloud his memories or to lessen the sorrow and guilt they induced. The sights, the sounds, the odors—he could still see and hear and smell them as if he had experienced them only yesterday.   
  


  
  
_The attack began at nightfall with a greater force than anticipated, but they were not caught unawares. Long had they felt the presence of Shadow. Ever vigilant they were, watching the Dark Tower from afar, destroying the wretched creatures that came too close to their realm in the northeast. They noted the bold movements, and they knew battle under the trees was imminent.   
  
Talathion remembered running through the forest when the first wave of the attack hit. His company was to draw the host of enemies away from the palace walls, away from the village. The cold, sharp steel of his blade pierced the flesh of any beast foolish enough to come within its reach, spilling their squalid entrails on the newly green grass. How many he slew that night he did not know, he did not care. He just kept running, chasing after the foul creatures, cutting them down, shouting orders to those who fought beside him. He entered into the composed but lethal trance of combat, concentrating only on that which immediately surrounded him. Millennia of years of experience in battle provided him with the focus he needed to survive—focus to defend himself, focus to bring his blade down upon his enemy's shoulders, focus to ignore the reek of blood, the cries of his kin.   
  
It was long into the night before Talathion realized they had been separated. He cursed himself, but he could not worry about that now. Worry would distract him. Distraction meant death.   
  
His company was successful in driving the host south and west, and the battle looked to turn in their favor. Many of the beasts were falling to arrows that were released with unerring precision from the trees. His strength renewed, Talathion intensified his attacks and found himself savagely thirsting for the blood of his foes.   
  
Alarmed calls from above shook him from the daze of combat. A second assault wave had set fire to the surrounding trees, seeking to drive the concealed archers out of the safety of the branches. The archers were doomed; they had no means of escape. The inferno was quickly consuming the dry wood, forcing the archers to draw towards the center of the fiery circle. On the ground, the beasts were poised for attack, waiting for them to eventually drop from the treetops. He watched as several archers jumped down from the trees, watched them wield their short daggers, watched their heroic attempts to slay as many foul creations as they could before they met their deaths. Several arrows whizzed past him, and Talathion knew that many of his kin had chosen to remain above, to give deadly flight to the last of their arrows, to realize their fate in the trees. How many of his kin died that night he did not know, he did not want to know.   
  
The intense heat of flames scorched his skin and burned his lungs. The stench of burning flesh made his nose wrinkle in disgust. The deafening sound of trees ablaze toppling throughout the forest was all he could hear.   
  
Talathion surveyed the scene as best he could through the thick, black smoke. The enemy now outnumbered them greatly. What remained of his company was scattered and disorganized, fighting only for the purpose of staying alive. They were losing this battle. Their only hope in surviving was to push through the host together, but they had to do so quickly. Falling trees had set fire to the forest floor. The blaze was drawing close, threatening to enclose them in a ring of death.   
  
He let out a war cry and heard it echoed throughout the forest. Again he found his strength renewed as he felt the presence of his kin draw toward him. Pushing forward, they fought as one, leaving a trail of dead bodies in their wake. They turned together to fend off the attacks that came at them now from the rear and the sides. Catching a quick glance behind him, he spotted a small opening in the blazing wall and thanked the Valar. He could see their escape, their victory.   
  
He ceased his backward steps, allowing others to pass by him and out of the circle of fire. Four of his company remained by his side, helping him to ward off the enemy, to stay their position. A loud, creaking noise from above told him it was time to move and to move quickly. Delivering one last blow to the creatures in front of him, Talathion sprinted away, the others following him. The host surged forward only to be crushed or set aflame by a burning tree as it crashed to the ground. A few of the creatures managed to break free from the fiery trap, but it took little effort to kill them. The others he watched with great pleasure as they scampered about, flailing their limbs, shrieking in pain as they were burned alive.   
  
Satisfied that they had won this battle, Talathion urged his small company onward. Distant shouts alerted him to the fact that other battles were being fought elsewhere in the forest. They quickly traversed the fallen, blazing trees, making their way westward where his elven senses had determined the need for reinforcements to be greatest. He found the company there to be hard-pressed and under threat of fire just as his had been. He joined his kin in battle, dispelling the hideous creatures until none remained alive.   
  
The two depleted companies became one and moved to lend the service of their deadly blades to other kin fighting throughout the forest. How many battles he joined that night he could no longer recall. How long he fought beneath the trees of his home he did not know. Eventually, the host of enemies withdrew, their number severely diminished. It was midday, or so Talathion estimated, for the Sun had hidden herself behind dark, heavy clouds.   
  
Several of his kin gave chase to destroy the repulsive creatures that remained alive, but many stayed behind. Fire still threatened to take their homes. They worked ceaselessly into the night and well into the next day, setting counter fires and chopping down trees to stop the spread of the blaze. It grieved the elves greatly to have to bring more ruin to their beloved forest, but in the end, they had no other alternative. The clouds finally burst and Talathion found himself thanking the Valar once again for the much-needed rain.   
  
By nightfall of the third day the risk to their homes was extinguished, and their attentions turned now to graver matters—locating and burying the bodies of kin. It was a task Talathion had been dreading. Nothing had he heard of his son, and none had seen him. Fighting the orcs and wargs and battling the fires, he was given no opportunity to consider what had become of him. With nothing else to occupy his mind, it was all he could think of. _   
  


  
  
Even now, seven years gone, the distressing thoughts plagued him. Lingering for a brief moment at the edge of the trees, Talathion gazed at the Moon hanging confidently in the dark night sky. _Tilion had guided a full vessel that night as well. _   
  


  
  
_Talathion remembered all too well the fateful trek he had made through the charred and blackened trees of Mirkwood. Nuindolien, his wife, had searched with him, having ignored his pleas that she stay behind. He knew what they would find if their efforts proved successful, and he wished desperately to spare her from the experience, but she was as willful as the day he first met her, as willful as her brother. Neither spoke as they walked along, she finding comfort in quiet companionship, he silenced by guilt and regret.   
  
Nuindolien had discovered his body though she did not know it, burnt beyond recognition as it was. She had thought it was the corpse of an orc, its flesh so blackened and desiccated, and had passed it by. But he paused when his eyes caught the glint of elvish steel in the pale silver moonlight. He saw the charred hand still clutching the black-handled knife that he had given to him at his coming of age, and he knew instantly it was Mellhawion. Crouching down beside the body, Talathion pried the bones of burnt fingers open and felt the smooth handle of the knife, unscathed by the flames that had killed its wielder. He wrinkled his nose involuntarily, the air around him filled with the putrid smell of seared flesh. He turned his head away, repulsed by the sight, and let out a heavy sigh. Nuindolien turned at the sound, denial written on her face. Stifling a cry, she ran over and fell to her knees. He watched as a single tear fell from each of her deep blue eyes as she realized that this was what remained of her son. Her hand went to caress what had once been Mellhawion's face, but it crumbled beneath her light touch, the flesh burnt to the extent that it no longer held together. Her tears poured forth at that moment, and there was nothing Talathion could do to comfort her.   
  
He gathered as best he could their son's body within his cloak and together they journeyed to the Forest River. Nuindolien offered a lament as they watched his remains float down the river, the current swift from melting snow in the Grey Mountains. When she finished her song of farewell, she opened her eyes and he gazed into them. No longer did sapphires of blue sparkle within them; Talathion knew that it would not be long until he would lose her. She had been filled with despair these last months, despair for the fate of the elves, for the doom of Arda. Now grief consumed her. _   
  


  
  
Once again, Talathion found himself slowing his steps, trying in vain to slow the rush of memories that bombarded him. The wind picked up, rustling the branches of the trees. It whispered their last words to each other.   
  


  
  
_"I can not go on, my love. I have lost a part of my heart."   
  
"We will find comfort in the sea. Let us pass into the Undying Lands."   
  
"It would do no good, for my mind is beset by visions of his death, by questions that will go unanswered. They will never cease to haunt me."   
  
"I can not bear to lose you as well."   
  
"You already have. I am an empty shell."   
  
They had stayed there, on the bank of the river. He held her head in his lap, running his fingers through her thick hair, not quite as gold as the king's. His gaze caressed the contours of her face. His entire being was focused on remembering every detail about her, for he knew he had not long before she too would leave him. Her sweet scent was like that of lilacs in bloom. Her skin was soft as a newborn babe's. Her laugh, once melodic and contagious, now silenced forever. Her long eyelashes curled slightly at their ends, always lightly tickling him whenever she rested her head on his. He had loved her as best he knew how over these long years, but he knew he had to let her go. She would stay if he asked her to, but he could not ask that of her. She would slowly waste away, forced to relive the memories of this week in her dreams and in her waking hours. She would suffer through them for him, but then she would no longer be the one whom he loved. Nay, it was better if she passed now so that he would look back on his time with her with some happiness and peace, and not be filled with sadness and regret for what she would become if she stayed. Placing one last tender kiss on her supple lips, Talathion vowed to love her always and to do all that he could to protect her brother and his family and their home. Then Nuindolien expelled her last breath as the sun's rays disappeared beneath the horizon.   
  
Passing with her was not an option for him. Talathion's sense of duty held him to this life. King Thranduil had need of him even with the young prince away on the Quest. The villages of the elves were even more vulnerable since the attack four days ago. Much preparation would be required in these next few days as more attacks threatened their woodland realm. And should the Quest be successful and the Ring destroyed, there would be much rebuilding in their villages and restoring of life to the forest. _   
  


  
  
Talathion stopped when it dawned on him where his feet had carried him. He had drawn far from his companions, their songs lightly carried on the wind. He could still see the faint glow of the campfire though the trees. Turning away from the light, he recalled for the first time in several days the woman that Legolas, Celebhil, and he had discovered in this clearing one week ago. He had thought much about her that day after Legolas allowed her to escape from their elven village. _Escape? We did not hold her against her will. Yet she had held the prince hostage and for that, she should not go with impunity._ Indeed, he had wanted to discuss her actions and the prince's response, or lack there of, with Legolas. It disturbed him that the prince had not dodged her attack and thus avoided the predicament in the first place. And then, to be held there, paralyzed and at the mercy of the knife. Talathion did not understand. Legolas was truly a skillful warrior, as he had proven to the warder on several occasions, including one just that morning. Surely, he would have been able to wrench the knife from her grasp before she would have even been aware what was happening. The prince had great strength and great agility, this the warder knew, but sometime between his playful revenge on the sparring fields and their arrival at the Healing House that morning, those abilities had abandoned him. _Perhaps it was the sea-longing._   
  
Talathion shook his head at this, quickly dismissing the thought. True, he did not yet experience the sea-longing and so did not know its ways, but he had watched Legolas carefully over these years since his return from the Quest, seeking to somehow protect the young elf from the anguish of the call. He had come to learn much about it in his observation. Much like an affliction it was, for there were days when Legolas suffered greatly, enduring the constant call of the sea. And then there were times when the prince seemed very much like the elf Talathion had known and protected under the trees of Mirkwood—carefree, adventurous, quick to anger like his father, quicker to delight just like his mother.... _At times mischievous,_ Talathion thought, a smile playing on his features. Truthfully, he rather enjoyed being the victim of Legolas' pranks, especially now as the pranks were so rare, but he would never admit this fact. It reassured the warder when Legolas still found ways to enjoy and entertain himself in this land. Talathion also found great pleasure in thwarting Legolas' attempts. It had turned into a game of sorts between warder and prince.   
  
But now that game had higher stakes. _Why do I seek to hold him here? Indeed, why does he stay, for he cannot endure the call of the sea for much longer? He will depart soon, I believe, and that brings great sadness to me. I have lost so much, and I am not willing to let him go so easily._ Talathion knew the reasons Legolas stayed in Middle-earth, though he did not fully understand them. Similar to Legolas, the warder remained in this land because of obligation to others and of a desire to see the land restored to its beauty. However, unlike the prince but much like the Woodland King, he was not so willing to turn Arda over to the care of men. He longed for those great years of the Firstborn. He did not like this change in the tide. It was because of men that evil had remained in Middle-earth for two ages and that Arda consequently came to great ruin. Thus, wasn't it also man's fault that he had lost his wife and child? In fact, a man was to blame for the affliction that his prince endured and would continue to endure.*   
  
Talathion sighed, abandoning this line of thought. It was not his place to judge the decisions Legolas made when it came to friendship, this he had learned well. But it was his duty to protect the prince and see to his well-being. He would need to be even more vigilant these next few weeks, as Legolas clearly did not have all his faculties about him. It came as no real surprise that the prince had not been present to lead the spring plantings, though Talathion had hoped this year would be different. The warder had observed that the sea-longing was at its worst for Legolas in the spring. Perhaps the land springing back to life served as an unwanted reminder that his heart no longer found delight in the trees. Or more likely it was the familiar scent of the salt of the sea as winds blew up from the south, bringing with them memories of when he had first heard the cry of the gulls on those shores. However, Legolas had seemed to be in good spirits of late, his recent ruse on the warder a testament to this.   
  
_It was after that woman left._ Clearly she had some sort of affect on the prince's state of being. Talathion had noticed Legolas' initial reaction to her when they had found her. He had appeared to disappear within himself, even if only for the briefest of moments. Legolas had said he had sensed something within her, but what it was he did not know or at least did not say. But the greater mystery was still what had transpired in the Healing House. The more Talathion considered it, the less explanation he had for Legolas' actions. Never had the warder experienced such lack of input or knowledge when it came to the prince's security, and this worried him greatly. Deciding to return to _Edhilbar_ in the morning to seek out the prince's whereabouts and question him about the woman and what it was that he had seen in her, Talathion turned and began to journey back to the warmth and light of the fire.   
  


~~~

  
  
She stirred from sleep, feeling something new, something almost odd. Her body was warm; no longer did coldness invade her bones.   
  
She opened her eyes, but quickly squeezed them shut to protect them from the sudden brightness of the sun. Waiting a few moments, she slowly opened her eyes again, allowing them to adjust to the light.   
  
Sitting up, she felt the something slip off her body, and cool air began to nip at her skin. She fingered the material that lay over her legs.   
  
Panic seized her.   
  
Someone had been here. Someone had been watching her. Someone had placed this over her body.   
  
Panic released her.   
  
Someone had been _with_ her. Someone had been watching _over_ her. Someone had placed this over her body.   
  
It had been the reason for her warmth during the night. She looked more closely at the material. It was dark green, like that of the forest trees. The fabric was soft and weightless, but still provided much protection against cold winds.   
  
She folded the material and lay it next to the knife that she had slept with during the night. Standing up, she looked around the glade.   
  
An all too familiar emptiness in the pit of her stomach told her it was time to find something to eat. Her eyes drifted toward the red flowers that had been her meal yesterday. She felt like retching at the thought of eating those things again. Little did they do to dispel her hunger.   
  
She crossed over to the stream and knelt down beside it, splashing the cool water on her face and taking a sip.   
  
A cry from the air overhead quickly drew her attention. A magnificent bird was soaring above. She watched it for some time, but soon it moved on, disappearing over the tall trees.   
  
She looked into the water and noticed fish swimming idly, oblivious to her presence. Her spirits lifted and her belly rumbled at the thought of the filling meal one of those would make.   
  
She shook her head. She would have to find a way to catch the fish. And if she was successful in that, then she would need a fire.   
  
She stood, picked up two rocks from the bank of the stream, and carried them over to the tree beneath which she had slept. The kindling she had gathered the day before still waited for the fire she had been unable to start.   
  
She began striking the rocks against each other, over and over and over. Her arms hurt from the repeated motion, but she desperately wanted a fire, desperately needed a fire.   
  
Her heart jumped when she saw the first spark, but she had not been prepared and it had not caught. She tried again, but there was no spark this time. Again, she tried, and again.   
  
Finally, her persistence paid off. She watched as the tiniest amount of smoke rose from the smallest patch of orange. She cupped her hands around the precious flame to shield it from the slight wind. She cried out as the flame died.   
  
It did not take her long to make a spark again and catch the fire on the dry leaves. This time she did not make the mistake of robbing the flame of its breath, and soon she had a decent fire.   
  
She sat back, her legs beneath her, and admired her handiwork for some time.   
  
Her stomach reminded her that she had started the fire for a reason. She turned and looked at the stream. Starting the fire seemed easy now compared to what she would have to do for her next task. She had no means of catching the fish, and surely if she found a way, it would mean immersing herself in the stream. She shivered at the thought of cold water dripping from her body. But she did have the warmth of the material and the fire now.   
  
She grabbed the knife and started to move over to the stream. She was halfway there when she spotted the bird again flying low towards her. As it came closer, she could see it grasped something in its claws. It flew past her, dropped its load next to the fire she had built, and took to the sky once more.   
  
She cautiously made her way back to the fire and inspected the offering. A small animal lay motionless at her feet.   
  
She bent down and picked the animal up by its long ears. A fine meal this would make and a relatively effortless one at that.   
  
She removed the skin from the animal with the knife. Using the thickest limb she had gathered for the fire, she skewered its meat and held it over the fire, her mouth watering.   
  
With the meat cooked fully, she sat down with her back against the tree and slowly ate her meal, savoring every last morsel.   
  
For the first time she felt satisfied, content, unafraid. She was beginning to accept that this was home.   
  
  


*****

  
  
  
*This is alluding to a point that Ithilien makes her story, _Cry of the Gull_. It will be expanded upon in later chapters. If you have not read that wonderful story, go read it...now!   
  
Sorry for the long time between postings. I'm still quite slow with the whole writing process. Hopefully, the next chapter will be out in about a week, but I'm not quite sure. I'm very distracted right now by my Minnesota Twins! But I'll try to write between innings.  
  


**Response to Reviewers**

  
  
**al & Legolas:** First of all, thanks for beta'ing and for your wonderful reviews. You and Legolas are awesome! I see you're theorizing on the origin of the mystery woman. Yay! I'm not going to tell you if you're right or wrong, though. *evil cackle* Yes, Celebhil got a little action in that last chapter. Don't worry, Legolas, there's some in store for you too. But like al said, you'll just have to be patient and wait. Elladan and Elrohir know nothing about supervising visits, that's why Legolas and I think they would be perfect. Come on. Please!   
  
**Mija:** Thank you for saying this is beautiful. I try my best to pack in a lot of imagery and symbolism so I'm glad that you're enjoying it. Thanks for adding me to your favorites! I'm honored.   
  
**TreeHugger:** Thank you for the compliment on my descriptions. It's something I struggle with and is mainly the reason why I write so slow. But I'm getting faster. My mouth is hanging wide open--did you just use Legolas and great and romance in the same sentence?! Wow! Yeah, if you thought Talathion was serious in the last chapter, what's your impression of him now? And as you can see, the woman's technique improved! BTW, when Legolas said technique, what were you thinking? I don't think I should tell you what I was....   
  
**YellowSun:** Thanks for suffering through this story once again. And to clear something up, it was LegoALS, not LegoLAS. Legolas is much too nice to shoot you with an arrow; it's his twin brother you have to watch out for. FYI, as I'm writing this, 71 days until the release of TTT; I know you can't wait. (Legoals: Yeah, right!)   
  
**Nebride:** Wow, you reviewed twice! Thank you! Keep wondering about the woman; I shan't say anything. I am dropping hints here and there for you though. And yes, she will give Legolas something else to think about, but will that be good or bad...?   
  
**Ithilien:** Whew! *wipes forehead in relief* It's good to hear your radar hasn't detected any Mary Sues. Be sure and ticket me if it ever should. Poor Legolas, indeed! (copyright TreeHugger) And it's only going to get worse for the poor elf. So many questions, and so few answers. It will all be revealed in time, don't worry.   
  
**Alon:** Are you still with me? Thanks for reviewing chapter 2 and for adding this to your favorites. I must say that I was reluctant to write any fan fiction because I was afraid of those Mary Sue traps so it's very encouraging to hear that so far, I haven't fallen in!   
  
**Melian:** Huge thanks to you for beta'ing. This story is taking shape because of your awesome insights and the intriging discussions we have, so give some kudos to yourself as well. Chocolate chip are my favorite, BTW, but really I prefer Cappuccino'n'Creme NutriGrain Bars. Yes, good angst is good angst and thank you very saying that mine is really good angst. As for the whole sending Legolas back in time to rejoin the Fellowship, I'm putting that plot bunny in a cage and one day, I might just let it out and play with it.   



	5. Departures

**Disclaimer:** All characters and places belong to or inspired by Tolkien.  
  


**_El gwedh enni_  
(A) Star is binding me  
  
Chapter V – Departures**

  
  
Celebhil walked slowly along the edge of the forest and looked out over the large field where several elves were busy tilling the soil. His elven senses reached out around him, for still he felt the eyes following his every movement. He knew not to whom they belonged, but he had his suspicions. He had been aware of the presence for some time. Had he not been on his constant guard, the presence would have gone unnoticed and the one tracking him would have succeeded in their efforts. Nonetheless, Celebhil had been expecting this; he would have been foolish not to.  
  
"If you think to retaliate for yesterday morning, think otherwise. I know you are up there," he called out to the trees overhead. He heard the disappointed release of breath that originated from a branch high above him. Celebhil smiled. One could not so easily ambush him.   
  
The elf jumped down from the tree and landed directly in front of him.   
  
"Legolas?" Celebhil felt his eyes growing wide, the unexpected appearance of the prince startling him. "What were you doing up there?"   
  
"Exactly as you thought, though it is clear you were expecting the trick to be of someone else's design," Legolas answered, raising an eyebrow. "It appears I missed out on something. I wish to know what happened yesterday morning that one would seek revenge on you."   
  
Celebhil shook his head and waved his hand as if to push the matter away. "Nothing that would concern you. Have you come to help with the planting?" he asked hastily, trying to steer the course of the conversation away from his escapades of the night before last.   
  
"Do not change the topic, my friend," Legolas replied, leading the elf into the field. "I know you well. Who was it this time? Daewen? Or perhaps Mordil?"   
  
"I never kiss and tell," Celebhil answered, shaking his head slowly and feeling his cheeks twinge with a pink he was sure rivaled that of the blossoms on the trees. It never ceased to amaze him how perceptive the prince was. "You know that."   
  
"I am also aware that you never just kiss," Legolas said knowingly as a smile spread across his face, finally finding its release.   
  
Celebhil laughed at the accuracy of his friend's words. "True," he said at last. "Can we leave it at that?"   
  
"I see no reason not to."   
  
Celebhil bowed graciously, the prince's decision granting him reprieve from the interrogation.   
  
"For now at the very least," Legolas added with a twinkle in his eye. "Tell me, how does the planting progress?"   
  
"Very well," Celebhil answered, ignoring the prince's first words and bending down to pick up a handful of dark moist dirt. "The soil grows more fertile each year. It will be a good harvest come fall," he pointed out as he allowed the dirt to filter slowly from his lightly clenched hand.   
  
Legolas reached out, catching it in his own hand, and studied it for a long moment. Celebhil stood, studying the prince in like manner, and wondered what thoughts journeyed through his mind. His patient silence was soon rewarded.   
  
"Arda still speaks of great evil. This land will not easily forget the devastation that was wrought here. It will be many long years before it truly recovers and regains its real beauty."   
  
Celebhil sighed, but it did little to remove the sudden weight the elf felt on his shoulders. _He is seeking for a reason to stay. Or perhaps a reason not to._ "But we shall see this beauty fully restored, will we not Legolas? It is our shared passion."   
  
His reassuring words succeeded in drawing the prince out of the confines of his thoughts.   
  
"The elves will long endeavor to heal Arda of the wounds she has sustained."   
  
Celebhil found himself saddened by his friend's choice of words. "We, Legolas. We."   
  
The prince gave him a quizzical look.   
  
_So this is the role I must play today, friend?_ It seemed that whenever the call of the sea grew louder for Legolas, Celebhil's burden to ease the pain of the prince grew equally heavier. Sometimes he wished he had never given his word to the dwarf that he would do all he could to keep Legolas from answering the call, for it was clear the prince suffered greatly. _As do those who are witness to that suffering._ "_We_ shall endeavor," Celebhil gently urged.   
  
"As I said," the prince replied icily.   
  
"Yes, of course," Celebhil placated. As per usual, the prince would find no comfort in his words.   
  
"I am sorry, my friend," Legolas said softly, and Celebhil realized he had failed to keep the sting of his friend's words from showing on his features. "You mean only to help, but I am afraid in this you cannot. Still, know that the gesture is appreciated."   
  
"I know, Legolas. It simply grieves me to see you endure this year after year, for each year it seems to me to be more difficult to resist. I do not know why you stay, or even how you find the strength to do so. My sister remained but a month before she departed for the West, and even in that short time the call had long grown heavy upon her. For you to have lasted seven years…I admire you, Legolas. But I also feel sad for you."   
  
"Please Celebhil, I do not require your pity," the prince said sharply, as anger threatened to boil over once more.   
  
Celebhil sighed again, his gaze straying up towards the clear blue sky, following a hawk as it hunted its prey. _Legolas cannot endure the call much longer, and it is a good thing, for I can endure little more of his moodiness._ "It is not pity, Legolas. Though I wish I could help, you have already reminded me that I cannot, and so neither now nor ever will I offer such." The words flew out of his mouth, and as soon as he heard their biting tone he wished to have them back. Legolas was his dearest friend. He had had the privilege of sharing his first time hunting the spiders of Mirkwood with the king's youngest son. He remembered how guarded he had been in the company of the prince. The night before the hunt, his older brother had told him all sorts of stories about the fury of the Woodland King, and had warned the young elf that all the king's sons had inherited this trait. Celebhil had been prepared to live the next five hundred years of his life in the dark dungeons of the palace when he saw his arrow embedded in the spider's throat, killing it just seconds before the prince's arrow found its mark in the same creature. But it was Legolas who had been eager to congratulate him on his first ever kill, and Celebhil knew immediately that his brother had greatly exaggerated, and had probably taken much pleasure in doing so. Legolas and he had been nearly inseparable ever since, comrades guarding each other's backs on hunts deep in the gloomy forest, friends delighting under the trees of the Greenwood, joint authors of bedlam in Thranduil's halls. A mere one hundred years separated their dates of conception, but now it seemed to Celebhil that something more separated them, something as vast as the sea.   
  
Celebhil found it his turn to apologize to his friend. "Forgive me, Legolas. I did not mean what I said. Perhaps it is best that we abandon this matter before we find ourselves hurting each other with more than just words," he said, shaking his head at their thoughtlessness.   
  
"It is not your fault," Legolas said, but nodded to show he accepted his friend's apology and agreed that the matter should be dropped.   
  
"Neither is it yours," Celebhil spoke quietly.   
  
They continued their walk through the field in silence. Not since their first meeting had Celebhil felt so uncomfortable in the presence of the prince. He was reluctant to breach the silence for fear that anything he brought up would eventually lead to another heated discussion of the sea-longing. Yet he also feared to allow the silence to continue, as no doubt it provided Legolas the opportunity to focus on its unending call.   
  
As he continued to keep pace with the prince's long strides, Celebhil ran through the list of possible "safe" topics in his head. _The spring planting is obviously ruled out as well as the feast, for it was clear he was not able to enjoy that. Perhaps the dwarf?_ The friendship between the elf and the dwarf was quite intriguing to Celebhil. He had not believed Legolas when the prince had confided in him that he had become close friends with one of the dwarves from the Council of Elrond. Legolas was adamant though, which only made Celebhil distrust his story even more; he had been a friend to Legolas for far too long to allow Thranduil's son to pull one so easily over him. It was not until the dwarf came to visit Legolas in _Eryn Lasgalen_ and Celebhil saw for himself the deep trust and loyalty between the two unlikely friends that he truly believed. He found that he actually enjoyed Gimli's company, for the dwarf demonstrated great respect for the Eldar race and could relate for hours the splendor and grace of the Lady of the Wood. Celebhil had never met Galadriel nor had he been so fortunate to behold her beauty, yet he felt like he had held both honors whenever the dwarf lost himself in exposed thoughts, reciting poetry and singing love songs almost worthy of the elves in his gruff voice.   
  
Celebhil felt the edges of his mouth curve upward into a tight smile. _Legolas was right, the dwarf can hold his ale, but Dorwinion wine is another matter altogether._ Thranduil had been in quite the rage when he found two abstemious yet very gleeful elves and one clearly intoxicated dwarf gathered around several empty bottles of his best vintage. It had been well worth the weeklong punishment, however.   
  
Celebhil was even more entertained by the sober tales that Gimli would tell of his adventures with Legolas during and after The War of the Ring, though there was no doubt in his mind that most of them were embellished for the sake of the dwarf's ego and the elf's embarrassment. King Thranduil, of course, was not as eager to accept Gloin's son as elf-friend, but no one could deny the uncanny ability the dwarf possessed to distract Legolas from the call of the sea.   
  
Celebhil shook his head minutely and dismissed the option. It was the presence of the dwarf that improved Legolas' state of mind, but talk of their friendship would only serve to remind the prince that one day he would have to leave Gimli behind.   
  
He was about to resort to making some comment about the weather when he heard a familiar voice call out in greeting to the two elves. Legolas looked over at him and gave him a sly smile before quickly turning back to the elf approaching them.   
  
"Have you come to sow the first seeds in the ground, Legolas? We would be honored if you would do so," Daewen said as she embraced the prince. Legolas returned the embrace, shooting Celebhil another furtive glance.   
  
"It was not my intention, although I am here now, and so it would be my pleasure," Legolas replied.   
  
Celebhil watched as the young elf maiden took the prince's hand in her own and led him away. Daewen's jet black hair was braided in a single plait, which swayed back and forth as she moved gracefully yet swiftly towards the stacks of burlap sacks that contained the various seeds that were to be planted in this field. He was slightly disappointed that she did not let her hair hang loose as it had been the night of the feast; he loved to watch her long tresses blow freely in the wind, concealing her face, waiting patiently for him to brush them aside and reveal her beauty. He watched the two elves chatting casually, Legolas clearly more relaxed than he had been just a few moments ago. He smiled when he heard that the prince's laughter join with that of Daewen. She had a talent for doing that—making one forget about their troubles. _She has talent for other things as well._ The salacious memory jolted Celebhil from his thoughts, and he moved to join his two friends before Legolas could have the chance to ask Daewen for details of what had happened after the feast on spring's eve.   
  
Other elves took notice of Legolas' arrival and drew near to observe the ceremonial planting of the first seeds. It was indeed a special occasion for never had the prince been present to perform the task. Daewen's lissom fingers untwined the leather cords of one of the sacks and carefully placed four kernels into Legolas' awaiting hand. The prince stood there silent, blue eyes examining amber seeds. Celebhil could sense Legolas' unease as he looked to Daewen for instruction on what to do next.   
  
"This way, Legolas. Mordil has the soil prepared," she said, taking his other hand and leading him towards the awaiting elf.   
  
Celebhil followed them closely. As they approached Mordil, the elf rose from his crouch and stepped aside, nodding only to Legolas and Daewen. When all the other elves had gathered around the four in the center of the field, Daewen motioned to Legolas that it was time to begin the ceremony.*   
  
Celebhil smiled as the prince bent down and traced a perfect circle in the black earth, then a line through the center, and then another in the opposite direction, the axes meeting at the ideal angle. He was filled with a sense of pride and joy that Legolas, his friend and his prince, would perform now this ritual.   
  
Legolas paused. His eyes drifted slowly up from the ground and gazed pleadingly into Celebhil's. Again, Celebhil noted the air of uncertainty about the prince. Looking to Daewen and then to Mordil, the prince's friend lowered one knee to the soft earth. The two elves obeyed his silent request and kneeled as well, bringing completion to the circle.   
  
"We ask all of Arda to grant life to these seeds." The prince spoke with careful veneration as he gave each of the three elves a kernel.   
  
Daewen took the seed from Legolas and placed it softly in the dirt where rigid line met smooth arc. "From the East comes Laurelin's last seed. As Arien guides it each day across the sky, it brings the fire that is the spark of life." Her voice, tender and mild, was carried lightly on the wind.   
  
To her right, the deep voice of Mordil resounded through the field. "From the North rise the great _Ered Mithrin_, whose hard rock is worn down by the north winds and washed here by River Anduin bringing new earth to cradle and nurture new life." Mordil's head was lowered in reverence as his strong fingers set the seed firmly in its place. The elf then raised his head and looked across to Celebhil.   
  
It was his turn, though he was hesitant to voice his part. Placing the seed in the earth, Celebhil spoke his words. "From the South come the rains born from far away _Belegaer_, the milk of the mother from which all living things suckle." A hollow deep in his stomach replaced the elation he had felt throughout the ritual as he noticed Legolas' gaze turn empty at the mention of the Great Sea.   
  
He closed his eyes, willing the silence to end, willing the torment to end.   
  
Finally, the voice of the prince graced his ears, though soft and remote it was.   
  
"And from the West blow the winds from faraway Aman, the sweet air from the Valar to remind all of Middle-earth from whence we came." The words traveled slowly as they left his mouth.   
  
Celebhil watched with cheerless eyes as Legolas' fingers played in the earth, setting deep the seed to sow, covering it ever so gently with black soil. _His hands touch the earth as if it were the last time he will ever feel the flesh of Arda. _   
  
A chorus of jubilant voices shook him from his thoughts, and Celebhil rose his own in like manner, smiling weakly. Arda had been eager for the new life and had accepted the seeds with great joy. The ritual was over. Elves dispersed to continue the planting that the four had begun and only Legolas, Daewen, Mordil, and Celebhil remained gathered around the ceremonial circle.   
  
"Thank you, Legolas. Never has the ceremony been so special for me. I am glad you were here to share the experience," Daewen said, giving the prince a light kiss on his cheek before turning to Mordil and motioning for him to follow her. Mordil nodded to the prince once more, flashed Celebhil a cold look, and then moved to join Daewen in distributing seeds to the other elves.   
  
"Will you stay?" Celebhil asked, shaking off Mordil's not-so-subtle warning. Despite the brief melancholy Celebhil had detected in him towards the end of the ceremony, Legolas seemed now to be at peace. Daewen had done much to stabilize the prince's state of mind with her soothing presence, and Celebhil's spirits had lifted because of it. He looked forward to being able to spend the rest of the day with his friend, sharing in the task of bringing forth life.   
  
"Nay," Legolas answered.   
  
The negative response caught Celebhil off guard. He could see no reason why Legolas could not remain. "Are you certain?" There was nothing he could do to mask his disappointment.   
  
Legolas nodded his head in confirmation. "There are other matters to which I must attend," he explained, and his gaze turned distant. Celebhil grew suddenly worried over what those other matters might be. "Do you have provisions to spare?" the prince inquired after a brief pause.   
  
"Yes. We have brought plenty." Questions raced in Celebhil's mind. _Where is Legolas going that he would have need to take food with him? Indeed, why he is even concerned about such I do not know, for that is much unlike him._ Celebhil became aware that Legolas was looking expectantly at him. "Help yourself," he said listlessly, pointing towards the west side of the field where several packs lay distributed on the ground.   
  
The prince nodded his thanks and made to leave.   
  
"Is everything all right, Legolas?"   
  
Legolas stopped mid-stride and turned. "Yes, all is well," he replied, confusion in his voice. "How long will you be here?"   
  
"The work will progress swiftly. We should finish in this field by nightfall. We will move on to the last on the morrow," Celebhil said perfunctorily.   
  
"And then you will return to the village?"   
  
Celebhil nodded, feeling even more perplexed by their conversation.   
  
"Good. I...I must depart, but be assured that I will see you again...soon," Legolas said and resumed walking away.   
  
_Again? Soon? _   
  
Celebhil could find no words to bid the prince farewell. Instead, he stood as still as a statue and watched him go, disbelieving. His friend of nearly two thousand years was departing and he would do nothing to stop it. The prince paused, turning towards him once more. Celebhil felt his eyes boring deep holes into him. He watched, not knowing what to do or what to say, when finally Legolas raised his brows ever so slightly and cracked a grin.   
  
"Both?"   
  
Celebhil smiled. He was going to miss the prince.   
  


~~~

  
  
She lay cradled in the soft grass, still hands resting on a full belly. It was an unusual feeling, but a welcomed one.   
  
Yellow rays of soft sunlight caressed her face, warming every inch of her body. Her eyes fluttered shut, lulled to near sleep by the musical speak of water. Quietness satiated her being, bringing with it a deeper awareness.   
  
She could feel it. The earth spoke of healing, of new life, of a promise to become whole once more.   
  
Her hands strayed down to her sides, and slender fingers mingled with the grass they found there, then strayed further to play in the earth from which the tender blades shot upwards towards the light of Sun.   
  
She could hear it. The song spoke of healing, of new life, of a promise to become whole once more.   
  
Her ears were gifted with music, soft but joyful, carried from a distant place, sung by a chorus of beautiful voices and echoed by all life in the forest.   
  
She sensed it—the healing, the new life, the promise to become whole once more.   
  


~~~

  
  
Talathion's eyes scoured the room, looking for anything that might be considered amiss. The bed was suitably made, the linens fresh and unslept in. Fresh flowers sat in a vase upon the stand beside the bed, filling the air with their sweet scent. All eight candles were distributed evenly throughout the room, each in their appropriate place, though their wicks had yet to taste fire. The dark blue curtains made of soft velvet and laced with deep red embroidery were drawn back, allowing bright sunlight to fill the space. _His bow and quiver are missing, though nothing does that tell me._ His gaze shifted to the desk in the corner and then to the head of the bed again. _If he has gone, then he has left no note of farewell._ Talathion winced at the thought, berating himself for his pessimism. _Legolas would not leave without saying his proper goodbyes._ He moved out of the doorway and crossed over to the hearth. Upon the mantle sat many of the trinkets and tokens the prince had received as gifts over the years. Talathion scanned the line of objects; the finer pieces were of elvish design, but there were others that were made by the crude hands of man and dwarf. None were missing. _And that can be considered a good omen,_ he thought, fingering a figurine of an elf and a dwarf seated upon a horse carved out of dark stone that glittered in the sunlight.   
  
He left the room, satisfied that everything was as it should be, yet disappointed that he had found no clues to the prince's whereabouts. He crossed the bridge over to the east side of _Edhilbar_ and noted the unusual stillness of the village. It was to be expected, however, as only a few elves remained behind during the height of the spring plantings to guard the village and see to its daily matters. Occasionally he would encounter another elf, and when he did so, he asked if they had seen or heard anything of the prince. Always came the same reply: "nay."   
  
Talathion considered for a brief moment stopping to question Teldo, both about Legolas and the woman, but the healer had already told all he could about the mysterious woman and the warder doubted the prince would have willingly met with the healer had he returned to _Edhilbar_. Thus, he passed by the Healing House, concluding that no information could be gained from its resident.   
  
The stables were not far from where he currently was walking, and there he judged his success in finding some answers to his questions to be most likely. Only half the usual number of horses were in the stables, for the rest were lending their strong backs to the elves carrying supplies for the planting teams. Talathion nodded his greeting to the two elves busy cleaning out the empty stalls and proceeded to walk to the large stall at the very back of the structure. Again his eyes made quick assessment of the items within, and when he was certain that everything was as it should be, he turned his attention to its inhabitant.   
  
The horse had heard the approach of the elf and stood by the door of the stall, waiting patiently. Talathion patted his broad muzzle and opened his hand to reveal a sugar pellet to the horse, who promptly lapped up the offering.   
  
"Well, my friend, what can you tell me of Legolas?"   
  
The horse simply eyed the elf and seemed to say to Talathion, "you are not my elf. If you want me to tell you what I know, you will have to persuade me to do so."   
  
Talathion laughed, but retrieved another sugar pellet from his pocket and held it out for the horse. "You are as stubborn as he is, Arod."   
  
The horse took the second offering and nuzzled the elf in thanks. Talathion scratched behind the horse's ears, and then brought out a third sugar pellet. This time, however, he only showed it to Arod before placing it on the door of the empty stall behind him.   
  
"You will have to tell me what you know first," he told the horse, as he opened the door and entered. He removed the soft brush hanging on the wall and began to work the stiffness out of the horse's shoulder muscles. Arod scuffed his hooves, for he was unused to Talathion's pattern, but soon he grew accustomed to the rhythm and began to enjoy the attention.   
  
"Legolas has taken good care of you over these last seven years, better care than he has for himself at times. There have been few days that the prince has not personally seen to your daily grooming," Talathion said as he continued to brush the horse in long firm strokes.   
  
The horse's only response to the elf's spoken thoughts was a blink of a large brown eye.   
  
"He did not attend to you yesterday or today," Talathion observed.   
  
Arod simply blinked again, then snorted in protest as the elf ceased his ministrations.   
  
"Peace, Arod. I have learned little of what I need to know. I must speak to Legolas. Know you where he is?"   
  
Talathion grunted as the horse gave him only a bothered stare.   
  
"He will leave you behind as well."   
  
At the elf's words, Arod thrashed his head to the right and snorted once more.   
  
"The north fields...of course. Celebhil knows where the prince seeks his solitude," Talathion said as he silently chastised himself for being so blind before to the detail. He opened the stall door and retrieved the sugar pellet, giving it to the horse.   
  
Talathion latched the door and crossed over to the stall where his own his horse resided. The mare greeted him with playful nudges.   
  
"Cease, Linteiâ," he gently scolded as he mounted the steed. "We can waste no time."   
  
Talathion urged the horse into a swift canter, one purpose in his mind. Reason told him all was well, as well as could be at the very least. But a shadow had cast itself upon his heart, and he feared the very worst. _I will not be left behind again._  
  
So intent was he on reaching the north fields, yet so fixated on the broodings in his mind, that he did not realize he had reached his destination until Linteiâ halted abruptly at the edge of the field. He dismounted the horse in one single motion and stormed over to the young elf kneeling on the ground.   
  
"Talathion, I…wh-," Celebhil stuttered.   
  
"Where is the prince?" the warder interrupted, his voice fervent.   
  
"Not here," Celebhil said, shaking his head as he rose from the ground and brushed the dirt from his hands on the front of his tunic.   
  
"What?" _The talent of youth for ambiguity. _   
  
"Not here," Celebhil repeated more forcibly, taking the elder elf by the arm and leading him off the field and into the trees from where he had just emerged. "I wish not to raise the alarm of others."   
  
"I must know where Legolas is," Talathion pleaded. "Alarm? What is wrong?" he said as an afterthought as his mind digested Celelbhil's words.   
  
Celebhil stopped and considered the elf. "He has left," he finally whispered, his head cast down.   
  
"Nay," Talathion gasped. "It cannot be."   
  
"It is true." Celebhil's head shot up and his green eyes locked onto the warder's. "You must come to accept this."   
  
"It is not his time," Talathion said, enunciating the last three words slowly and with great conviction.   
  
"In this, you are correct." Celebhil's confirmation startled the prince's warder. "It is well past his time."   
  
Talathion glared at the elf. "When did he leave? And in which direction?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Excuse me?" Talathion was stunned by the young elf's denial.   
  
"No," Celebhil said once more, his voice more solid, his gaze unwavering. "Legolas deserves peace. Do not try to sway him."   
  
"He belongs here, in Middle-earth, with his people."   
  
"Listen to your words, Talathion," Celebhil rebuked. "Legolas belongs to the Sea, not to you."   
  
Anger seized the warder. "I seek only to protect the prince. I do not lay claim to his life."   
  
"Are you certain of that? For I have observed differently as of late. You seek to hold Legolas here, to bind him to this land. His light fades, Talathion. Do you want to be the one responsible for that?"   
  
Celebhil's words stung his heart. The warder could say nothing in response.   
  
"I am truly sorry, Talathion. Know this. I am as sad as you that Legolas has left us, but my heart rejoices that he will finally find freedom from this torment. I will not see that freedom taken from him."   
  
With those last words, Celebhil turned and walked away from the warder, leaving him to his painful thoughts. _I will not see him taken from me._   
  
Talathion knew what he must do. He mounted Linteiâ and rode with great speed back to _Edhilbar_. He had little time and had debated returning to the village, but he knew he must ensure that the prince would be compelled to remain until the warder's return.   
  
He entered the stables for the second time that day.   
  
"The prince may leave without bidding farewell to his people, but he would not abandon you in like manner," the warder said as he opened the door to Arod's stall. "I am loath to admit it, but there is little you or I can do to hold Legolas here. Nonetheless, there are others who could stay the prince's decision."   
  
Arod stared at the elf in confusion.   
  
"Legolas cannot find you here. At least not until I return," Talathion explained as he began to coax the horse out of the stall with a sugar pellet.   
  
Arod took a step out into the corridor, then stopped to consider the elf.   
  
"I will do what I must. It is a day's journey to the White City, this you know, and at least another day to return. You must give me that time," Talathion pleaded.   
  
The horse finally complied, crossing over to Talathion and accepting the sugar pellet.   
  
"Go," Talathion whispered, nodding his head towards the south. Arod nuzzled the elf before trotting off in the direction he had indicated. Talathion watched until the white horse finally disappeared into the forest.   
  
"I am left with no other option. We must ride swift, Linteiâ."   
  


**************  
  
  
  
**Author's Notes**

  
  
*I bow down to the great Melian and worship the keyboard upon which she types. She is the genius behind the planting ceremony. If it had not been for her, the ritual would have consisted only of me saying that "he planted the seeds in ritual-like motion." Pretty bland, huh? The recitations during the ceremony are Melian's words and the rest was inspired by her. Thanks nin mellon. (I'm telling you, she encompasses literary brilliance; go, read her story and see for yourself.)   
  
There were quite a few references made in the ceremony; I'll point out the more obscure ones.  
_Laurelin:_ One of the Two Trees which shed its light on Valinor and was destroyed by Melkor and Ungoliant. 'Laurelin's last seed' refers to the Sun.  
_Arien:_ the Maia who guides the Sun  
_Ered Mithram:_ Grey Mountains  
_Belegaer:_ The Sea between Middle-earth and Aman. Basically, Legolas has a bad case of the "longings" for this.  
_Aman:_ The land in the West.   
I think that does it. If I missed anything or got any of that wrong, let me know and I'll correct it.   
  
I'm sure many of you realized that that was the battle in Mirkwood against the forces of Dol Guldor that occurred on March 15, 3019 and that Talathion was "lightly" reminiscing about in the last chapter. (Very good, TreeHugger. You get an A for the day.) Yes, this time of year is very significant for him. I'm curious if any of you have picked up on why this time of year is hard for Legolas; it's not spring allergies.   
  
One last note before I respond to my fabulous reviewers. Jenolas has written a series of delightful ficlets about all my favorite elves. They are all quite charming. Check them out!   
  


**Response to Reviewers**

First of all, I know you all rooted for the Twins to lose so that I would concentrate on this more. Oh well, just wasn't our year.   
  
**Al and Legolas:** Hey al, that last chapter turned out as well as it did thanks to you; you slayed many a balrog in that one. Thanks for doing so and for beta'ing this one as well. Oh, Legolas, be careful; Legoals really shouldn't be our supervisor, he's pretty evil and he really doesn't like you—still upset that Thranduil sent you instead of him; he's really jealous of all the attention you're getting because of it. Stupid elf keeps trying to insert himself in this story. Dang-it. No hottub, just a really small bathtub, but that will work, won't it? Might be tight quarters, but I don't mind.   
  
**TreeHugger:** Do you mean to say that Talathion has moved into the same neighborhood as Brethil and Tavor and Taglinna and Elu Heneb? Wow! He's honored! I'm sorry I made you cry; here, Elrond left this for you. ::hands TreeHugger a red hanky:: I'm so glad you are enjoying this, but it's not a Legomance yet, still developing. A couple more chapters...   
  
**Dragonlet:** Yeah Legomances indeed! I'll update as quick as I can. I have a day off tomorrow, so it won't take as long this time around…hopefully.   
  
**Melian:** Thank you, thank you, thank you! For the praise, for the beta'ing, for everything! I'm not worthy! I wouldn't let too many people know that you know something about this woman, they might come after you for the details. Should I send Legoals over to protect you? As for when Legolas and she come together...patience, my dear, patience.   
  
**Ithilien:** Thanks for the compliments. I love hearing what you have to say. Not much from the mysterious woman in this chapter, but I hope your still thinking about her. Thanks for being a good cop. Legoals gladly volunteers to be the bad one.   
  
**Mija:** I'm glad you're enjoying it. Keep reading!   
  
**Jenolas:** Welcome aboard! Thanks for reviewing all the chapters. Don't worry; I'm trying hard not to let her become Mary Sue. Sounds like you have many of the same questions about the woman as everyone else. Good, I like that! Thanks for adding me to your favorites!   
  
**YellowSun:** Legalot. Legalot! I thought I told you never to speak of him. He's even more evil than Legoals. Thanks for spending the hour to find the chapter and for reviewing. Hope you were able to follow everything. David Daniel Duganfield!!!!! LOL! I had forgotten about that. Wonder what happen to him.   
  
Everyone else—thanks for reading, but see that button there in the left corner that says "Go." Click it and review! 


	6. Choices

Sorry it has taken me so long to update, especially after I had thought it wouldn't.  
::PuterPatty glares at muse:: Legoals was very tight-lipped about this chapter.  
Legoals: At least, I don't have the loose lips of my brother.  
PP: LEGOALS! I thought I told you not to mention that; al's not supposed to know—Oh, hi al. Um, yeah, nothing happened between Legolas and me. I swear!  
Anyway, I finally resorted to denying the dratted elf his music in the car during my commute to and from work. He loves to sing along; he's already worn out my Nickelcreek tape. (BTW, They have a song called _In the House of Tom Bombadil!_ Good stuff!) Well, it worked as he _finally_ spilled the beans.  
  
Okay, there's really a point to this. Like some important things to note:  
  
For last chapter-  
Ithilien made a good observation in her review for last chapter. (I think al alluded to this, too.) Looking back, I agree Celebhil's conclusion that Legolas was leaving may have been a bit of a stretch. While writing that chapter, I was more concerned about Talathion's reaction. (You should have seen how badly the warder over-reacted in the first draft.) Anyway, logical story-lines are very important to me, so I thought I would try to provide you with some reasons as to why Celebhil jumped to the conclusion that Legolas was leaving Middle-earth. First of all, Celebhil is a very observant elf, but unfortunately his observations are a little odd. (Remember the ears from the first chapter.) Secondly, the sea-longing makes Legolas very unstable, so the thought that Legolas would leave at a moment's notice would be in the very forefront of both Celebhil's and Talathion's minds. Plus, Celebhil _wants_ Legolas to depart so that his suffering will end; I think he saw what he wanted to see. Well, that's it; pretty lame defense, I know. I tried to go back and rewrite a couple of lines to make it seem more plausible, but I quickly realized it would take a lot more revision than I had patience for at the time. Anyway, look for Celebhil to address his mistake in the future and hopefully that will clear things up some more.  
  
On this chapter-  
Much thanks goes to Ithilien! She has given me the opportunity to play off a point she made in _Cry of the Gull_.  
In a nutshell: Aragorn knows that the Paths of the Dead go near the sea. By asking Legolas to ride with him on that road, he realized he would be endangering his friend as Galadriel sent a message to Legolas earlier to beware the cry of the gull.  
Ithilien's story does a beautiful job exploring why Aragorn would put Legolas in that position. There's angst, action, friendship, a pinch of humor, a healthy dose of Elladan and Elrohir, and features much Gimli and Aragorn and of course, Legolas. Again, if you have not read that story, you are missing out on the best missing scene fic ever. Go, read it now! But come back here when you're done. : )  
  
::Legoals taps PP repeatedly on shoulder. PP relinquishes the keyboard to him.::  
Legoals: Hey YellowSun, Elessar=Aragorn, the "scruffy" man from the movie. ::Legoals gives control of keyboard back to PP, but eyes her suspiciously::  
  
Okay, Legoals thinks I've got a severe case of Brethilitis, so I will shut up now. As always, thanks to Melian and al for beta'ing. Enjoy and please give feedback! (I indulged and did a little self-insertion; see if you can spot it! Flame away if you wish.)  
  
  
  
**Disclaimer:** All characters and places belong to or inspired by Tolkien.  
  


**_El gwedh enni_  
(A) Star is binding me  
  
Chapter VI – Choices**

  
  
The road from _Edhilbar_ to Minas Tirith was a long but well-traveled and maintained path, so Talathion had no problems reaching his destination just two hours after dawn of the next day. The endurance and speed of his elvish steed had been much the reason for the swift journey, and he leaned over to pat Linteiâ on her shoulder in gratitude as he brought her to a halt on the crest of the last hill overlooking the White City.  
  
For a city of Men, it was handsome. Talathion could clearly see the seven distinct circles, defined by walls made of white stone that had been rebuilt and fortified over the past seven years by the work of men and dwarves. Storm-grey eyes glimpsed the faintest hint of green peeking around the towers of the Citadel in the topmost circle—the garden of the Queen of Gondor, the work of his prince.   
  
Talathion sighed as he remembered the joy Legolas had shown as he planted the trees and flowers that filled the garden. He remembered also the joy he had felt as he watched Legolas gently place the seeds and bulbs and young saplings in the ground. The prince had given much time and thought to what would be included in the garden and to its layout. Legolas had been sure to include all of the queen's favorites—cyclamens and _elanor_ and _niphredil_—as well as the king's _athelas_ and those flowers, shrubs, and trees to which he himself took a fancy. Talathion had been amazed by how fast the apple and cherry trees had taken root and grown even though cold stone surrounded them. He was furthermore quite surprised by the delectableness of the pastries and jams that were made with their fruit by the ladies of the queen's house; it was one of the only things to which the warder looked forward whenever he accompanied the prince on his visits to the king and queen.   
  
Linteiâ stirred beneath Talathion, shaking him from his recollection of a happier time. Unlike her rider, the horse was anxious to reach their destination.  
  
"I know, dear girl. You desire rest and perhaps one of those apples yourself. But need I remind you? It is still early spring; the trees do not bear fruit yet," Talathion said, as he patted Linteiâ once more and allowed her to resume a steady canter.  
  
As they approached the gates to the White City, Talathion drew himself up to sit tall upon his horse. To outside eyes, he would look proud and confident, on the verge of arrogance and aloofness, the epitome of elvishness. Talathion was experiencing something quite different on the inside however; he was tense and nervous and rigid, everything an elf should not feel. He loathed coming to cities of Men, and this one was certainly no different. _But what choice do I have?_  
  
"Who seeks entrance to Minas Tirith, and what is your business?" one of the guards inquired as Talathion paused before the gates.   
  
Talathion pulled back the hood of his cloak in response to the guard's question.   
  
"Prince Legolas!" the younger of the guards exclaimed before the elf could voice his answer. "Your arrival is unexpected, but the king will be very pleased to see you, I'm sure. It is quite unusual for you to come alone though. Where is that keeper of yours?" he asked with slight distaste in his voice. "And what of Arod? Is he well?"   
  
Talathion scowled at the error of the man, in fact at the ignorance of all men. _They remember a horse's name, but when it comes to elves, they are blind._ He had been mistaken for Legolas more times than he could count whenever he found himself in the company of men. It was even worse in the company of the females of the race, for they were unrelenting in their attempts to gain the attention of the elf prince. _Pointed ears and golden hair, that is all they ever see._  
  
"_I_ am that keeper," Talathion said coldly, gracing the youth with his most severe elvish glare. "I have great need to speak with your king."   
  
"Forgive the error, Lord Elf." Talathion turned his gaze to the other guard who now spoke. "Garmund speaks hastily at times. Please proceed," the older guard said, as he pulled back the gate to allow the elf entrance to the city. "Garmund will ride ahead to bring news of your arrival to the Citadel."   
  
Talathion nodded curtly to the man. _Perhaps I should have elected for the Glittering Caves_, he thought as he passed through the gate wrought with steel and mithril. Indeed, he had at first considered seeking the aid of Gimli, but time was of the essence and it was at least a week's ride to Aglarond. _And surely it would take at least a month to return, for Legolas has still not found success in convincing the dwarf of the efficiency of having one's own steed._ Talathion drew his lips tightly together in an effort to suppress a smirk as a vision of Arod bucking Gimli into the river of _Edhilbar_ entered his mind. _That would certainly do the trick._  
  
"A-apologies, m-my lord," Garmund sputtered out as he spurred his horse into a gallop, visibly shaken by the expression on Talathion's face and clearly anxious to distance himself from the dour elf.   
  
A wry smile managed to break out on his features, and Talathion increased his efforts to prevent any further display of amusement as laughter threatened to burst forth. If there was one thing the elf liked about the race of Men, it was that he could intimidate many of them, especially the younger ones. Moreover, it was becoming increasingly easy as of late. So easy that Talathion no longer had to give thought or expend any effort in accomplishing such. Many times, the elf only had to glance in their general direction and the men would become so nervous that they would start to fidget and try to find something remotely interesting to study or anything that desperately needed their immediate attention. Talathion found this took much of the fun out of the entire experience. _Alas, I will find no such ease when I face the king and neither will I find enjoyment then._  
  
With that final thought, Talathion urged Linteiâ into a quick pace as they traveled through the gently sloped streets of the White City. Soon he came to the Citadel in the top-most circle of Minas Tirith, where a man dressed in regal attire was waiting for him.   
  
"Greetings, Lord Talathion," the man said, sketching a bow as the elf descended from the horse. "In the name of King Elessar, I welcome you to the White City. May—"  
  
"Yes, yes, greetings indeed," Talathion interrupted, making no attempt to conceal his haste and irritation. "There is neither time nor need for pointless formalities." His tactic worked, as the man was clearly flustered by his abrupt manner. "I must speak to your king," he said as he gave the man a hard stare.   
  
"Ah...yes. Ah...ah–Garmund will see to your horse--take it to the stables, give it fresh water, everything that is necessary," he replied, trying to avoid silence.   
  
In the corner of his eye, Talathion saw the reluctant movements of the young guard as he came out from his hiding place behind his horse. Garmund kept his head down as he timidly approached the elf, leading his horse by the bridle. The young guard reached to take the reins, only to realize the horse had none. Talathion struggled to hold his stern expression.   
  
"Lead the way and she will follow you, or your horse at the very least," Talathion instructed. "She is quite taken with him."  
  
Garmund made brief eye contact with him then, and nodded as he turned and started to walk away.   
  
"Do not get too attached. We will leave shortly, as soon as my business with the king is complete," the elf told Linteiâ.   
  
The other man gave Talathion a series of several looks—first was the quizzical look in response to the elf's parting words with his horse, soon followed a look of curiosity to what his business with the king might be, and then finished with one of trepidation.  
  
"King Elessar is currently in a meeting with the Council, my lord. It will last the entire morning. I will inform him of your arrival when there is a recess, but I'm afraid the earliest you will be able to speak with him will be this afternoon, perhaps during the noon meal if he is willing," the man said, with only the slightest hint of confidence in his voice.   
  
Talathion realized that he must be one of the king's mindless secretaries. "The matter is urgent. Inform him now," he ordered, resuming his cold unwavering gaze at the man.   
  
"But-but, my lord, the king is in—"  
  
The elf intensified his glare. "Inform him now." He repeated the command very slowly, making each word distinct.   
  
"Yes, ah–of course," the secretary said, turning quickly and entering the Citadel. Talathion followed closely, continuing to bore holes into the man's back. "Perhaps you would like something refreshing to drink or something to eat while you wait? I could have the cooks make you some breakfast. I'm sure they have some of the venison sausage left over; it was quite delicious. The king brought the magnificent animal down himself, just a few days ago...."   
  
The man's obvious need to fill the air with senseless drivel as they walked through the broad corridors greatly annoyed Talathion. "I require nothing but the ear of your king."   
  
A brief look of horror crossed the secretary's features but dissipated slightly as the man understood the elf's meaning. He stopped and turned when they finally came to a set of ornate oak doors. "Wait here," he said, placing a hand on Talathion's chest, then quickly removing it once he realized he had done so.   
  
The secretary opened one of the heavy doors just enough to slip into the room, but it was sufficient for Talathion to glimpse the king sitting at the far end of the large table. _He looks as jaded as Legolas does in such meetings._ Talathion stood stiffly, listening to the chatter inside the chamber. The doors were thick and solid but not so much as to render elven ears useless. Talathion heard the man who had been speaking pause temporarily and then continue his dissertation about the necessity to appoint someone to oversee some collection of moneys to be used for some thing or another. It all seemed rather trivial to the elf.   
  
Finally, the door opened slightly and the secretary came out. "King Elessar knows of your presence. He will see you at the first chance he gets. Now how about that room or some food?"   
  
"Nay; neither," Talathion snapped, shaking his head. "I will wait for him in the garden," he said, turning briskly and walking towards the doors at the end of the hallway that he knew would lead into the sanctuary.   
  
"As you wish, my lord," the voice of the secretary called after him, clearly relieved to be rid of the elf for the time being.   
  
As Talathion passed through the doors of the stone Citadel and entered the garden, he breathed in the fresh air and relaxed ever so slightly. He knew not how long he would be made to wait. He had half the mind to storm into the meeting and force the king to listen to him then and there. Such an extreme measure, however, was ungainly and inappropriate behavior for an elf, and Talathion knew that he would be lucky if the king did not reprimand him for the treatment his guards and secretary had received when they finally did speak. Nay, it was better to wait. Besides which, he needed the time to collect his thoughts on what exactly he would say to the king.   
  
Talathion meandered along the dirt paths that wound throughout the garden. Even in early spring the garden was wondrously beautiful. Several of the shrubs and flowers were already in full blossom. The mingled fragrances filled the air, assuring all who sought respite there of warmer weather and longer days. Several robins and wood thrushes alighted on the tree branches, and their songs joined with the distant babble of water from the stone fountain in the center of the yard to bid welcome to the spring. As he passed one of the apple trees that he had helped Legolas plant several years ago, Talathion reached out a hand to touch the smooth bark and his tranquility was suddenly surmounted by sadness. A memory of the prince penetrated his thoughts.   
  
He had been part of the small group of elves who had accompanied King Thranduil to the edge of _Eryn Lasgalen_ to welcome Legolas back from the War of the Ring. The trees had carried the news of his forthcoming return to the Wood-elves, murmuring excitedly of the homecoming of their beloved elf. All waited with immense anticipation as the young prince finally came into sight. Even from that distance, Legolas' own eagerness was evident to them as the white steed upon which he rode, though weary from long travel, was urged by his rider to run faster and faster towards the wood. Legolas was barely able to contain himself when he finally reached the small party of elves, jumping down from the horse and rushing over to greet his sire. King Thranduil had no better luck controlling his exuberance as he enveloped his youngest son in a great bear of a hug, refusing to release him for several long minutes. That alone had been enough to bring the warder to near tears, tears of great joy for the safe return of his prince from the perilous quest he had embarked upon, but also tears of great sorrow at the realization that he would never share a similar moment with his own recently departed son. When the king finally freed his son from the strong embrace, Legolas greeted the other elves who stood by and then approached his warder. Talathion watched as a hand reached out to stroke a much-loved beech tree, but where there should have been delight and happiness to be home, to be under the trees of his youth, to feel the familiar texture of wood, there was nothing. It was at that moment that the warder noticed the change in his prince. His eyes were different—distant and a little bluer, with bitter wisdom and sadness floating beneath the surface of their dark pools. Talathion recognized the signs, and he knew then he had lost his prince to the sea.   
  
"How fares Legolas?"   
  
The soft melodic tone carried to his ears and released Talathion from the memory. Though he had not heard the approach of the one who voiced the question, he knew who it was.   
  
"I would not be here if all was well, my lady," he said, turning and bowing low to the Arwen Undómiel, Queen of Gondor and Evenstar of the Elves.   
  
"You bear ill tidings?" the queen asked, strolling over to sit upon a small stone bench surrounded by jonquil of the brightest yellow. Talathion watched as her delicate hands reached out to touch the flowers and noticed for the first time the subtle glow she still emanated. The queen looked up expectantly at the warder, waiting for an answer to her inquiry.   
  
"Legolas departs for the West," Talathion simply replied.   
  
"Truly he will be missed, but the news is not so ill or unforeseen."   
  
"It is ill to me," Talathion said, censuring the queen's attempt at consolation. "And unforeseen? Nay, but Legolas is far too young."   
  
"All elves are eventually called to Aman; it is their fate, else their light fades forever," Arwen reasoned.   
  
Talathion grunted in response, for though some truth rang in the queen's words, he judged them to be faulty on one matter. _All elves, Arwen Undómiel? Are you not one who has forfeited that right, that gift? And why? For the love of this man, the same man responsible for Legolas' plight? Foolish are you to choose this path and foolish was Legolas to follow him then._  
  
"We make our own choices Talathion, and those who hold us in their hearts must learn to live with those choices, whether they accept our reasons or not," the queen said softly, gracing the warder with a look of understanding.   
  
Realizing that he had been glaring at the queen, Talathion turned away, put his hands on his hips, and heaved a sigh. "I came to discuss Legolas' situation with the king, my lady. Did he send you to pacify me, or are you here for some other reason?"  
  
Arwen rose and walked with deliberate steps over to where he stood. "This is _my_ garden Talathion," the queen scolded, holding his gaze with dark eyes. "I will _not_ be spoken to in such a manner, nor will I allow my people to be treated with the disregard you have shown them. You _will_ conduct yourself as a member of the Eldar race while you remain within these walls, within _my_ city."   
  
Talathion knew not what to say, so agape was he by her reprimand. True, he knew Arwen not well, as only in the past seven years had he spent any considerable amount of time in her presence. Never had he imagined, however, that the Evenstar could possess such fury. _Alas, she is indeed the daughter of Elrond._  
  
The queen touched his shoulder gently. "You are cast in shadow, Talathion," she continued, her voice returning to the soft soothing tone with which she normally spoke. "I hope peace finds you."   
  
With those parting words, the queen exited the garden and Talathion was left to consider her words in solitude. He knew they were meant to bring him comfort, but they had delivered none. He only felt more pain and more bitterness. Already tense, Talathion grew even more so as he heard the door behind him open and fall shut, and then the sound of footsteps drawing near. He took a deep breath and turned to begin the next round.  
  
"Your visit is a pleasant surprise, Talathion," the king greeted him with false sincerity.   
  
"You need not insert the 'pleasant' for my sake, Elessar," Talathion hissed.   
  
The corners of the king's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Well met, Master Elf."   
  
Talathion only nodded.   
  
"What brings you to the White City? Surely there is more on your agenda than upsetting the king's subjects and offending the queen. Perhaps I can scrounge up some children for you to terrorize?"   
  
"Point taken, Elessar," Talathion conceded. "I came to inform you that Legolas answers the call of the Sea."   
  
The king sighed audibly and turned his gaze upward to the sky. "We knew this day was coming, yet it does not lessen the gravity of the news. When does he depart?" he asked, lowering his gaze to meet the warder's once again.   
  
"I know not for certain. He may have left already, though I think I was successful in stalling him. He made his decision known only to Celebhil. I believe he intends to leave with as much secrecy as possible." Although hostility and anger simmered underneath, Talathion kept his demeanor calm as he told the king all he knew.   
  
"Legolas was never one for fanfare," Elessar chuckled, and then grew serious again. "I cannot fault him for leaving without saying farewell. He has given his friendship so completely that it would break his heart to do so. I'm sure he has struggled to come to this decision in the first place," the king said, his voice trailing off. "Thank you for bringing this news, Talathion," he finished as his focus returned.   
  
"I did not come in the guise of a carrier pigeon, Elessar. I came as a last resort to stop him from leaving."   
  
The king's eyebrows knitted his confusion. "He has struggled against this for far too long already. Surely you must see that answering the call of the sea is his only option. Why would you seek to restrain him from doing so?" he questioned.   
  
"What would you know about Legolas' struggle?" Talathion spat.   
  
"The light that fades does not go unnoticed to me, Talathion," Elessar said softly. "This struggle must end."   
  
Talathion's animosity towards the king boiled over with those words. "It is a struggle that should have never begun."   
  
"If you mean that I am solely to blame for his plight, then you are mistaken. Legolas was well aware of the danger he placed himself in. He knew the cost."   
  
"He was blinded by foolish adulation for you," Talathion said, eyes narrowing, years of pent-up resentment finally pouring forth. "Just as you have blinded Arwen. You have raped them both of—"  
  
"Enough!" The king yelled and began to walk away. He stopped abruptly and returned to stand in front of Talathion, his eyes flashing. "Do not speak of that which you know nothing about," he warned.   
  
"Then let me say this, Elessar." Talathion paused, considering carefully his next words. He knew he had overstepped his bounds and was endangering the purpose for which he came. But he detested the king, for he had gained much after the War of the Ring while Talathion had lost everything. Here stood the heir of Isildur, raised in the House of Elrond, who had brought about the destruction of the One Ring and sealed the fate of the Elves, who had betrayed his foster-father and their people when he had taken the Evenstar to wife, dooming her to a mortal existence. Here stood the one who had led Legolas into the clutches of the sea, thus shattering his world completely. "Do you think Legolas truly desires to depart these shores?" Talathion began, barely controlling his rage. "Though the call of the sea consumes much of his soul and his heart, a piece of him is still devoted to this land and the dwarf...and to you." Talathion's words were brimmed with revulsion. "It will tear his heart to pieces if he leaves. Do you truly believe he will find peace in the Undying Lands? To live with this decision, to leave without fulfilling his vow to this land and to you, he would come to hate himself, and it will destroy him. Can you live with that knowledge?"   
  
The king stood silent for several long moments as he weighed the truth of Talathion's words. "His suffering will only grow worse if he remains."   
  
"But at least he would have the dwarf's friendship and your friendship to sustain him," Talathion said, softening his tone to match the king's. "Legolas regards you highly for reasons I do not understand. He will listen to you; he will stay if you ask him."   
  
"I _cannot_ ask that of him. I _will not_ ask that of him."   
  
"It is too late, Elessar. All this was set in motion seven years ago when you asked him to accompany you on the Paths of the Dead," Talathion said, and dared to rest both hands on the king's tense shoulders. "Legolas is spiraling out of control. You owe it to him to bring some sort of stability back to his life," he ordered, shaking the man. "Make your choice, Elessar."   
  
The king threw off Talathion's hands and held the elf in a hard stare. "I will find Legolas and speak with him, but I will _not_ ask him to stay. I go only to bid farewell to a friend so that he can find peace at last."   
  
Talathion sighed. He would have to be content with that...for the time being at least.   
  


~~~

  
  
Legolas stood at the edge of the trees, concealed safely in the thick green undergrowth of the wood, and scanned the glade for the woman. No sign did he find of her presence. _Surely I did not imagine her, for her song was too real._ Legolas chuckled silently to himself, remembering the long day he had spent trapped in the willow tree watching her. The sheer boredom he had felt had been far too real for it to have been a dream. It had been nearly as painful as listening to Gimli talk about his rocks. It had definitely been real.   
  
The prince waited and watched a few minutes more, then slowly advanced out from the cover of the trees and into the clearing. He walked towards the willow in the center of the glade. As he drew closer and his angle of sight changed, he could see evidence that the woman had finally found success in starting a fire. _Or perhaps she received help,_ he thought, remembering her difficulty with the task. Legolas bent down to inspect the blackened earth and noticed bones lying on the ground on the far side. He moved to examine those instead.   
  
He was able to discern that they were the remains of a rabbit and were only a day old. The discovery puzzled the elf. He wondered how the woman had obtained the rabbit. Certainly she was not able to catch and kill the animal herself, as the only weapon she possessed was his white knife. Not even an elf had the speed and agility to accomplish such a thing. There was only one explanation that he could think of: someone had provided her with the meal.   
  
Legolas shrugged the pack he carried off his back and placed it on the ground next to the fire pit. He found the situation to be rather amusing. He had returned to the glade to leave some food for the woman, for it had been obvious that she was in need of something other than the lingonberry blossoms to satisfy her hunger and sustain her body. What made the situation humorous in the prince's mind was the fact that someone else had beaten him to it.   
  
However, the existence of that "someone else" worried Legolas slightly. Though elves considered land to belong to no one, the prince's people understood that this glade was special to him, and therefore avoided coming to his haven unless invited. Even the patrols steered well clear of the place, for the glade was deep in the wood, far from the roads used by men to travel throughout Gondor. It had not surprised the prince when he had been the one to come across the woman two days ago without first hearing about her location from one of the forest marshals. In fact, he had been quite relieved that it had been he who rediscovered her. _Had Talathion found her...?_   
  
The woman had troubled the warder and he was greatly agitated with Legolas for the prince's lack of response to both her actions and her escape. Talathion had been certain to make this known to the prince. Legolas had no explanation for why he had been impaired when she "attacked" him. He smiled as he remembered how he had been able to pass it off as the effects of sea-longing. That reason always managed to silence the warder and get him off his back. The prince did feel guilty for using that excuse, for he knew it pained his warder deeply, but Talathion was becoming excessively overbearing as of late and Legolas had had little patience for him that day.   
  
In the week that had passed since her escape, Legolas had given much contemplation to the two incidents—her discovery and her "attack." He still had no explanation for what he had experienced when they had first found her. A part of him wished to experience it again, not only so he could gain more understanding as to what has caused the phantasm, but also because he had found the experience to be quite pleasurable—sensual and enlightening at the same time. Legolas had little more success in determining a reason for his ineptitude to defend himself when the woman had taken his knife and held it to his throat. He rationalized to himself that his non-response had occurred because he had felt no fear. The prince never considered his life to be in danger even though she had held the cold sharp steel firmly against his neck. He realized now an instinctive understanding had passed through him that she meant him no harm, only that she greatly feared for herself, for her life. She had just awakened in a strange place, surrounded by strange elves; he could not fault her for her actions, nor could he have justified making any forceful moves against her. She did not desire help from the elves, and Legolas believed that she did not belong there in the first place.   
  
The elf sighed, deciding he had done enough introspection for one day. He elected to leave the food for the woman even though there was no sign that she would return to the glade, for she had taken his knife and cloak with her wherever it was that she had gone. If she did come back, she would probably have need of the sustenance.   
  
The likelihood that someone outside their elven community had managed to come this deep into the wood and escape detection by the elves who patrolled the borders still troubled the prince. Even if the person meant no harm and indeed was looking after the woman, it still made him feel uneasy. Therefore, Legolas deemed it necessary to check the perimeter of the glade for any clues to who this person might be. It took him nearly an hour to complete the task and when he was finished, he had learned nothing more. All he found were several indications of footprints leading into the glade from the south and scattered throughout on the soft earth. He was able to determine that all the footprints belonged to the same person. They were petite and many were found in areas where he had witnessed the woman walk. He concluded their creator was the woman.   
  
Legolas traced the most recent footprints to the bank of the stream but soon lost the trail on the rocky ground. He shook his head in defeat. He had never liked tracking; the task was much too tedious for his tastes. He preferred to let others perform the chore. _Perhaps Aragorn needs a vacation from the city._  
  
Legolas rose from his crouch and shrugged his shoulders. His feeling of unease lingered still, but he was anxious to return to _Edhilbar._ He missed Arod and regretted the inattention he had paid his friend over the past few days. He also knew he had neglected his duties as prince once again this spring, though he had been determined not to. He was glad he had at least performed the ceremonial sowing of the first seeds. He had been hesitant at the beginning, as it had been many long years since he had participated in the ceremony and never had he led the ritual. He was thankful that Celebhil had been there to support him, and Daewen too. He had feared that he would feel nothing during the ceremony. But the feel of the soil between his fingers reminded him how much he once loved this land and how much he still desired to stay in Middle-earth. The call of the Sea grew loud and he knew not how much longer he could resist it, but performing the ritual strengthened his resolve to remain in Arda for as long as he could bear. He had a village to lead, a land to restore, and friends to cherish.   
  
The elf shook his head again, this time in annoyance at his susceptibility to be so pensive. _If Gimli were here, he would be threatening to cleave my head open with his axe._ Legolas did not like where his thoughts threatened to travel. He had had enough struggles with the call of the Sea lately.   
  
Legolas removed his boots, trousers, and tunic and waded into the stream. Though it was the source of his pain, the coolness of the water held the uncanny ability to draw him out of his thoughts, or at least bring order to them. He stopped in the middle of the stream and stood with eyes closed, allowing the water to rush over his torso and wash his mind clean. The elf focused only on physical sensations. Rays of yellow sunlight warmed his face and his shoulders, providing an arousing contrast to the cooler temperature the rest of his submerged body felt. Thick mud squished between toes as they played in the pliable substance. Occasionally a passing fish would find its curiosity sparked and draw near to inspect the elf, creating tiny eddies around him as they swam between his legs. A smiled alighted on Legolas' face and his eyebrows lifted in response to one who was so bold as to nibble briefly on his flesh. He waved his arms to shoo the fish away and then stretched them out on both sides of his body. His open hands barely broke the surface of the stream, and he felt the pull of the current against his palms. The consistent flow of the water lulled his mind into a quieter state, and he felt at peace.   
  
Something caught against the fingers of his right hand, disrupting the elf's meditation. Legolas opened his eyes and discovered that it was a dark brown feather, long and broad, that had caused the disturbance. He held it up and examined it closely. _A hawk's feather_, he easily determined, and turned around so the current of the stream pressed at his back. He dropped the feather into the blue water and watched as it floated away down the stream until it finally disappeared from his sight.   
  
Legolas heard a new song join the musical babble of the water and he jerked around. Only a little farther up the stream, he saw the woman walking along the bank of the stream towards him, humming softly. It did not appear that she saw him, but it would not be long until she did. Legolas looked to his left where his clothes lay folded neatly along the bank, then to his right where the trees stood offering a different sort of cover. Legolas had a decision to make. He could make a move to recover his clothes, but then the woman would surely spot him. He was not sure how she would react to discovering a wet, naked elf in her midst and he was quite reluctant to find out. His other option was to slip into the wood, unnoticed but unclothed. Whatever choice he made, he needed to make it soon.   
  
_At least Edhilbar is nearly empty. Perhaps I will be spared from the agony of this tale,_ he thought as he swam silently to the shore and disappeared into the trees.   
  


*****

  
  
  
  


**Response to Reviewers**

  
  
**TreeHugger:** So _you're_ the one stealing all of Elrond's red hankies. I promise--things will start to take on a little lighter feel when Legolas and the woman finally start to interact. But not for long as the angst-fest will resume. The end I have in mind is...well, you'll see. ::wicked grin:: Celebhil does indeed get around, the randy little elf. Eep – I _didn't_ remember that Legolas sang the South for Boromir. (True confession: I have only read LotR in its entirety once.) I'm glad I'm driving you nuts about the woman. It's so fun. You'll find out soon enough...or not. Talathion is obviously battling some demons, so he's behaving a little irrationally; he does, however, say "hi" to Taglinna and wonders what he's been up to lately. coughcoughUpdateSoonTreeHuggercoughcough.  
  
**Mija:** Thank you!  
  
**Al & Legolas:** Legoals is very evil; I'm so annoyed with him right now. The laptop sits on the stand beside my bed waiting for that numskull of an elf to wake me up in the middle of the night like he use to and tell me the next parts of the story, but all he's been doing lately is drooling all over my pillow. He is _so_ unlike his brother. Legolas doesn't drool, does he? I, too, am glad our favorite elf got to have a little fun last chapter. It didn't last long though, did it? I'm afraid it's only going to get worse for him. Hey Legolas! You want to know what's really cool? Not only do we eat Kit Kats the same way, but apparently you like to drink fuzzy navels and I'd kill to drink _anything_ from your navel. We are _so_ MFEO!   
  
**jenolas:** I hope Legolas can find some peace soon too, but 'fraid not. At least not for a while anyway. I'll pass your kind words about the planting ceremony onto Melian as most of it came from her brilliant mind. Can I expect a new story from your brilliant mind soon?  
  
**Melian:** Poor Talathion indeed! I didn't realize how much of this story would focus on him and his struggle to come to terms with Legolas' sea-longing. There is much in store for him as well. But I've already teased you with that, haven't I? Thanks again for the inspiration and help with the planting ceremony. Palantir? What's that? I've just been using this crystal ball thingy to try and predict when you're going to post a new chapter.  
  
**Ithilien:** LOL-something tells me she isn't average female roaming around nekkid in the woods either. Hmmm, a metaphorical character...? Fascinating! I like where your mind is headed, but my lips are sealed (against Legolas' ;D). You will find out eventually who she is and why she is here. I promise. You did nail it—-I found it interesting to think Legolas might experience really bad sea-longing during spring for that reason. Thanks again for letting me explore the whole "Aragorn responsible for Legolas' sea-longing" thing.   
  
**YellowSun:** I'm glad you like Josh, er, I mean, Celebhil. What do you think of Toby, er, I mean, Talathion? (Did I get that right?) Thanks for the flame! 


	7. Questing for Answers

**Disclaimer:** All characters and places belong to or inspired by Tolkien.  
  


**_El gwedh enni_  
(A) Star is binding me  
  
Chapter VII – Questing for Answers**

  
  
The setting sun stained the western horizon a deep red orange, tingeing the thin blanket of clouds above a soft lavender hue. Songbirds ceased their musical conversations with one another as the day neared its end, but the vessel of the Tilion was rising in the east and so were the sounds of eventide throughout the land. Crickets chirped incessantly in the open plains and the constant shrill droning of cicadas echoed them from the trees. The cacophony of chirrups and buzzes was as night to day when compared to the silence clinging onto the company. Only the rhythmic pounding of horses' hooves on the hard dirt road provided evidence that eight riders journeyed through the land. None spoke, for none had cause or desire to speak, as other matters occupied their minds.  
  
Understandably, the two guards riding in front, the two who rode the middle flanks, and the two behind spared thought only for how they would react were they to come under attack. The possibility was slim, for the soldiers of Gondor and the elves of Ithilien had done much over the past seven years to ensure travelers safe passage throughout the land. After the fall of Sauron, they together sought out remaining bands of Orcs and Easterlings, slaying and driving out the fell creatures and treacherous men. The strength and severity of the combined forces of Men and Elves had demonstrated that Gondor would not tolerate the servants of Sauron, and that if they ever ventured into the reunited kingdom, they would be met with cold hearts and swift blades. The remnants of Great Shadow still lurked however and so there was need to be ever watchful. The Easterlings had retreated into the south and east, just beyond the borders of Gondor, and those orcs that had not been relieved of their wretched existence cowered within the deep caverns of the _Ephel Duath_. Occasionally, some who possessed courageous stupidity dared to test Gondor of their word and waylaid travelers along the roads. A small trading party bringing back a shipment of fine earthenware from Harad had been attacked the previous year and two men had lost their lives. It was proof that evil yet existed in Middle-earth, and always there was a chance that awful deeds would be wrought by the cruel beings. Thus was the reason the six guards focused all of their attention on their surroundings and did not initiate idle conversation. One had to be ever mindful of anything that might suggest danger was afoot when one was charged with the duty that was bestowed upon them.   
  
Like his guards, the king devoted much of his attention to that purpose, for he had lived a life in which it was necessary at all times to be fully aware of his environment—of noteworthy sounds and unusual silences, of strange shadows cast upon the ground, and of things that would escape any other man's senses. _But naught is wrong around you_, the former Ranger concluded as he took in a deep breath of the crisp evening air. _It is among you that there is dissonance._ Aragorn knew he was partly to blame for the weighty silence that hung about the company. He was greatly troubled and irritated and whenever he found himself in such a mood, he found those in his company sensibly kept chattering tongues still.   
  
He had desired to leave Minas Tirith for _Edhilbar_ early that afternoon and the wish was granted. Prince Faramir was in the White City for the upcoming annual celebration of the destruction of the One Ring. The steward was more than capable of handling the preparations and making any decisions that came with the task. In a selfish way, the king was thankful to be making this journey, as it had given him good reason to shirk the responsibility. The king's wish that had not been granted was that he would make the journey without the attendance of a royal guard unit. This was what vexed him. He had been a Ranger of the North and had trained ever since he was able to lift a sword to fight in the direst of circumstances. He had no outstanding need for another's protection as he was able to provide such for himself. Besides which, did not the showy banners that hung at the sides of the horses and the royal dress of the guards advertise that someone of great importance rode with this company, thus putting themselves in a position to attract far more danger than he would have had he been allowed to ride alone or with just one or two others?   
  
Aragorn chuckled softly to himself, for as much as it irritated him he had no choice but to find some humor in the situation. He was the mighty ruler of Gondor who had control over all in his great kingdom...except for one little thing—he could not leave his private chambers without servant or guard or both tagging along behind him. Aragorn shook his head in defeat. _You are but powerless where your own safety is concerned, O King of Gondor._   
  
Realizing that the matter was a waste of precious thought, he turned his mind away from the presence of his guards and instead considered the elf riding with their company. Aragorn stole a quick glance toward Talathion, who sat proud upon the saddle-less back of his blue roan mare, far removed from the group of men. If he was to take partial blame for the tense silence of the company, then the elf was without a doubt the root cause of it. Legolas' warder was still very much in a foul mood despite the fact that his wish had been granted to some extent, for Aragorn made this journey in hopes to speak one last time with the young prince. Still, gloominess emanated from the elf and it pervaded the entire company.   
  
Talathion's mood should not have surprised him nor caused him great concern, for never had he known Legolas' warder to be anything but dour. If ever a scribe was to assemble a book of great volume that contained within it the meanings of words, Aragorn was certain he would find a sketch of Talathion next to the entry of "dour." _As well as severe and morose and discourteous and...._ Ever was the elf gravely serious, with only one purpose in mind—protecting his prince. Aragorn was accustomed to the daunting presence of Talathion whenever Legolas visited the king and queen in the White City. It provided much fun for the royal couple. The warder was seldom very far from the one he had been charged to keep, and his constant proximity to the prince wore away at the young elf's patience. The king had been a recipient of many favors of a personal nature from his queen as he very often won the bets he made with her concerning when the son of Thranduil would finally lose his temper, and what means he would employ to hinder his warder's persistent vigilance.   
  
Laughter began to rumble deep within Aragorn as he remembered the time when the elven prince had agreed to meet one of the more uninhibited maidens of the White City in a storage closet of the Citadel during a grand feast and ball. Legolas and Gimli had shown much cunning and craftiness in luring the warder into that same room and barring both elf and woman inside for the entire night. Needless to say, Talathion had not been pleased with the ruse, and the woman, once she realized a switch had been made, had been very disappointed with the companionship, or so Aragorn heard tell the next day from his two cheerful friends.   
  
Aragorn attempted to conceal his laughter, but the elf still heard it and must have sensed the merriment came at his expense. Talathion swung his head around and gifted the king with a sharp look. Aragorn sobered immediately. _It's going to be a long journey, Aragorn,_ he acknowledged to himself, as he tried to coax his horse and consequently those around him into a faster pace.   
  
The warder's wordless reprimand succeeded in quelling his brief amusement, but it did little to stop him from further deliberating the elf and the reason for his behavior. Aragorn was aware somewhat of the inner turmoil Talathion clearly still fought. Legolas had not shared all with him, as it was not his place to do so, but he had told him enough. Aragorn knew of the personal tragedy the warder had experienced in the recent past and understood the pain of heartbreak was still fresh within his soul, for seven years was but a single brief measure in the Great Song of Ilúvatar for one who had lived so many millennia as Talathion. Aragorn could not fathom the immense sorrow and heartache of losing a wife and a son that one had loved for hundreds upon hundreds of years. Eldarion was not yet a year old and already Aragorn had developed such a close bond with the child that if anything ever happened to him he believed he would go mad, seeking vengeance against whoever had allowed harm to come to his son. Either that or he would be so stricken with grief that he would collapse within himself, so much so that not even Arwen could reach him and pull him out from the depths of despair. It scared him to think about how terribly he would react and the emotions that would plague him, to even consider that he could lose his son because of illness or accident, or worse, through the deeds of men plotting to usurp the throne of Gondor. It scared him.   
  
Aragorn shivered as he considered the frightening possibility of the last scenario, and shook his head to rid himself of the disturbing thought. _That was very elvish of you,_ he observed silently and scowled. It was not the first time that day that he found himself having to perform the somewhat cleansing behavior. The altercation earlier between Talathion and he had brought to the forefront of his mind many upsetting thoughts, and with those thoughts came regrets. Talathion needed not remind him that he was essentially the cause for the fading light of not one, but two of the Eldar. Not a morning went by when he would look upon the beauty of his wife lying peacefully beside him in their bed and feel remorse for the choice his love had driven her to make. He had hoped that as the years passed by, those feelings would pass as well. But such was not the case—with each rising of the sun, the knowledge of her eventual death weighed heavier upon his heart and mind.   
  
_Stop this brooding, Aragorn! Arwen made her choice freely, as did Legolas. You are no more responsible for the direction their lives have taken than you are for the washing of floors in the Citadel. _   
  
The king rubbed his temple, willing his mind to return to pondering Talathion, specifically the odd request he had made earlier that day. Aragorn had agreed to make the trip to _Edhilbar_ because he truly did desire to bid farewell to Legolas before the young elf departed Middle-earth. Talathion, however, desired something more from him. What spawned that desire confounded Aragorn. The warder had made no attempt to conceal his almost manic desire that Legolas remain in Middle-earth when he had confronted Aragorn that morning, and this behavior made no sense to him. True, elves experienced emotions far more intensely than most mortals, but they maintained firm control over the display of such emotions. It was most unlike an elf to let panic or pain be known to another, especially one outside their race. And it was no secret that Talathion harbored ill feelings toward those mortals the prince considered friends, particularly toward the king. But by staying in Middle-earth, Legolas' friendship with both Aragorn and Gimli would continue and only grow stronger and deeper as the years passed. Surely this was not what the warder desired.   
  
"We should start to set up camp, Your Majesty, while there is still some light," the captain of his guard said, breaking the silence and interrupting Aragorn's ponderings.   
  
Aragorn breathed an audible sigh, brought his horse to a gradual stop, and visually assessed the wishes and needs of those gathered around him. The bothered look on the elf's face and the stamping of his horse's hooves upon the road told him that Talathion was against a halt for the night and was anxious to continue their journey. Aragorn felt much as Talathion did, for he had spent a long winter cooped up within the stone walls of the White City and this was the former Ranger's first real excursion of the spring. Of course, the purpose of the journey did not escape his consideration; Aragorn did not want to find he had missed Legolas because they had tarried along the road. Roheryn, his horse, was capable of continuing on through the night with little rest and so was Talathion's steed since both were elven bred. Nonetheless, the other horses were tiring and in need of rest, as were the guards they bore.   
  
Aragorn nodded his approval of a halt. "That copse of trees will be our resting ground for the night," he said, ignoring Talathion's deliberate grunt and urging Roheryn forward.   
  
The company reached the site of their camp shortly. Arien had yet to fully hide her face, but darkness would be upon them soon. Three of the guards were sent to scout the area to ensure all was aright and to collect kindling for a fire. The other three remained behind, securing the horses and unpacking rations and bedrolls. Aragorn performed a quick survey of the area and found Talathion standing at the far edge of the trees, gazing out at the gently rolling hills before him, one hand resting lightly on his horse's back. Ignoring his desire to sit down and enjoy the companionship of his pipe, Aragorn approached the elf. Questions concerning the warder's reasons for wanting Legolas to remain in Middle-earth still beset his mind. Now was as good a time as any to try to gain some answers to those questions.   
  
"What do you see?" Aragorn asked, attempting to engage Talathion in small talk first. It was a tactic that had worked many times against both Elrond and Gandalf whenever he had wanted knowledge the two were not willing to impart. Aragorn drew in a silent breath and hoped Talathion would fall prey to the device just as they oftentimes had.   
  
"Why do you care?" the elf asked testily.   
  
Aragorn scratched a nonexistent itch on the back of his head. _You have your work cut out for you against this one._   
  
"The eyes of elves see many things a man's cannot. Doubtless you can glimpse the great forest in which _Edhilbar_ lies." Aragorn paused to carefully consider how he would proceed to steer their conversation. "Legolas and I camped here one night a few years back," he said casually. "He told me the furthest thing he could see. I wonder who has the keener eyes—the prince or his warder?" he put forth playfully.   
  
"What does it matter?" Talathion questioned in reply, his tone conveying he had little patience to participate in the game.   
  
"Humor me," Aragorn answered as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.   
  
"I see farther than the prince ever has and ever will."   
  
Aragorn's mind dwelled briefly on the possible meanings of the elf's words. Then the man allowed a small chuckle to escape. "I'm sure Legolas would give a similar answer had I presented him with the question," he pointed out. "Prove it," he said, jerking his head up minutely. "Tell me what you see."   
  
The elf snapped around to face the king. Grey eyes locked onto grey eyes. "You do not want to know what it is I see," Talathion warned, holding Aragorn's gaze for a long moment. Finally, the warder broke away and let out a long exasperated sigh. "For what purpose do you bother me with this guff, Elessar? What is it you truly wish to know?"   
  
"I would have you tell me your reasons for wanting Legolas to remain in Middle-earth," Aragorn said straightforwardly. _You should have known better, Aragorn. He is much like Legolas; direct is always best._   
  
"My reasons are the same as your reasons."   
  
Aragorn ran a hand through his thick hair, silently cursing the innate elven talent for elusive answers. "I fail to follow your logic, Talathion. I do not want Legolas to stay. Not if he must suffer the Call of the Sea. I want only what is best for him. I _have_ no reasons for wanting him to stay," he pointed out, strength behind his words.   
  
"If that is true, then you are a poorer king than I thought, Elessar," Talathion spat.   
  
Anger seethed within the former Ranger, but he checked it, recognizing the elf had sought to elicit such a response from him. "What mean you?" Aragorn demanded, devoting much effort to keeping his tone even.   
  
The elf turned away to face the wide expanse in front of them. "You asked what it is that I see when I look out upon this land, and so I will tell you," Talathion declared at last, his voice suddenly smooth. "I see a land that was devastated by brutal hands of Orcs and Men. I see a land that still bears these wounds deeply." The warder paused, allowing Aragorn just enough time to wonder when he had relinquished control of their conversation and where it was now going. "Would you know what it is that I hear as well?" Talathion questioned, glancing over at Aragorn, who gestured vaguely for him to continue. "I hear Arda crying out. She weeps in pain and curses the ones who caused it. Resentment festers within her, but she welcomes the Fair Folk and calls out to us in gratitude for the love and care we show her."   
  
Aragorn nodded solemnly, sensing the truth in the elf's words. "The Fair Folk have done much to heal her wounds," he said. "For that, we are all grateful."   
  
"Our work is far from complete, Elessar," Talathion scolded. "You fail to perceive how deeply her pain lies. Would you have us abandon this cause, cease this work?"   
  
"No, of course not," Aragorn replied, taken somewhat aback by the question. _What does the elf take me for?_   
  
The warder took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he spoke his next words. "Should Legolas heed the Call of the Sea, do you know what will become of _Edhilbar_?"   
  
Aragorn made to answer but was unable as the change of topic caught him slightly off guard.   
  
"It will diminish, just as the realms of Imladris and Lothlorien have begun to do," the elf answered for him. "Alas, it is strange and very ill that such should be the case." Talathion paused briefly, and for an instant his eyes seemed to fix themselves on something far away. Then, just as quickly, he brought them back into sharp focus. "It was the youth of my people who followed the prince to Ithilien. They still find delight in this land, for much of this world is new to them and excites them. Eagerly but foolishly have they forgotten those dark days not too long gone when all Middle-earth was clouded in Shadow." Talathion's head shook with disdain. "They have never before experienced a time when one no longer need fear that Shadow. It is for that very reason that the dawning of this age brings much joy to them. But they did not experience the great days of my people, the days when Gondolin and Doriath were the elven strongholds, when it was the Eldar who held the fate of Middle-earth in their hands." Talathion's eyes met Aragorn's. Dark grey storm clouds had settled over his pools. "They removed themselves to Ithilien so they would be closer to the sea. Though they do not yet feel its pull, they know it will come. Many want it to come. I doubt not some would have left these shores already, even had they not heard its call. Know you why they stay?" Talathion's eyebrows drew together expectantly as he seemed to consider the worth of the king.   
  
For a moment, Aragorn thought he had misheard the elf's question. "This world still delights them. You have just said as much yourself," he finally replied.   
  
"Middle-earth is not what holds them here," the elf corrected harshly. "Aman offers far more beauty, and they would find much more delight in that enchanted land, untainted by mortal beings. They remain here not because they are bound to this land. Though they desire to see Ithilien's hurts healed, that is not the reason they stay, nor was it the reason they removed themselves here in the first place. Think you that they would subject themselves to live in a place where they must suffer so much contact with your race?" he scoffed. "Nay, they were content living in _Eryn Lasgalen_, for the darkness has been lifted over that great forest, and they would find more delight under the trees of their homes than they ever would here." Talathion shook his head slightly. "They came and they stay because of Legolas," he explained, his voice turning momentarily placid at the mention of his prince, but the warder's scorn promptly returned as he continued his harangue. "It was his desire to establish a settlement here, to restore Ithilien to its prior beauty. Without him, the land of this kingdom would be as despicable as its nobility." Aragorn grimaced inwardly at the contempt dripping from Talathion's words. "You owe him much, King of Gondor. Your kingdom will be made great by the work of the prince. But that will not come to pass should he leave. The others would abandon this cause without the prince's vision to guide and sustain them. Do you understand now why it is in your best interest that he stay?"   
  
Aragorn did not answer for a time and Talathion thankfully did not push him to do so. Much of what the elf said had some base in the truth, Aragorn knew. While there were a few exceptions, Talathion being one of them, the elves Legolas had brought with him to Ithilien were quite young by elven standards. And as all young elves were, they were eager but capricious. He had known for some time that when Legolas finally did depart from the shores of Middle-earth, the elven settlement in Ithilien would eventually disband, some following the prince's path, others returning to Thranduil's kingdom in _Eryn Lasgalen._ While they would leave Ithilien in a far better condition than when they came, the land would not be fully restored to its splendor. It would take many years before that would ever be accomplished. Yes, what Talathion said made complete sense to the king.   
  
Aragorn shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Your explanation fails to fulfill my original request," he finally said, recalling his original purpose in subjecting himself to the discussion. "What reasons do you have for wanting Legolas to remain? You have made clear on several occasions your dislike for me. Why would you seek to accomplish something that would be to my benefit?"   
  
"You speak untrue, Elessar. I do not dislike you." Mock hurt filled the elf's saccharine voice. "I abhor you," he amended, his tone turning bitter and coarse. "But even more so, I loathe that Men gain clout over the fate and well-being of Arda. Men are weak and foolish and selfish, but you have much strength and will, and that is a dangerous combination. I foresee Arda will suffer once again under your rule."   
  
Aragorn fought hard once again to control the anger stirring within him. _It is Talathion who speaks untrue, Aragorn. You know this! The elf is not being forthright. He is hiding something. Play his game a while longer._ "Ah, now I understand," he said, feigning enlightenment. "Legolas must to stay so that the presence of the elves will at least ensure that we bring no harm to the land."   
  
"Precisely," Talathion said curtly, a note of warning in his voice.   
  
"It is quite noble of you to forestall your own crossing over of the sea," Aragorn said, cocking his head expectantly.   
  
The elf's eyes burned with fury upon hearing his words.   
  
_It seems you have hit a sore spot, Aragorn. Perhaps this discussion has not been for nothing._ "No doubt you desire reprieve from the ills you have experienced in this world," he said, adding another coal to the fire.   
  
No reply came from the warder, but none was needed to tell Aragorn that he had hit his mark. Talathion stood tensely and glared at Aragorn, a severe yet haunting glare that seemed to chill the air around them. Having lived with elves for much of his life, Aragorn was quite adept at withstanding the weighty gaze of an elf, yet rarely had he experienced a glare so intense and piercing as the one with which Talathion gifted him now. Almost it seemed to rival that of Sauron.   
  
"I will find no peace there," the elf spoke finally, his voice cold and emotionless.   
  
"Talathion, I—"  
  
"Silence," the warder hissed. "You would do well to keep your empty words to yourself, King of Gondor."   
  
Talathion leapt onto his horse in one fluid yet rigid motion, and Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief as he was released from the glare. The elf turned his head toward Aragorn, fixing him once more with a heavy gaze. "I trust you to find your way to _Edhilbar_. Do not disappoint me in this, Elessar," he advised harshly as he spurred his horse into a gallop.   
  
Aragorn watched regretfully until elf and horse disappeared over the rolling hills, Arien withdrawing her last rays of light from the western horizon.   
  


~~~

  
  
Legolas pulled back on the cord strung tautly between the two ends of the curved wood, seeking to reacquaint himself with the quirks of the bow. Its weight was different, heavier; and the wood felt strangely smooth under the grasp of his left hand. He released the string but kept his hand near to it, feeling the vaguely familiar vibrations of the flaxen cord. The elf cocked his head as he listened intently to the slightly higher pitched twang of the bow, calling to mind the distant memory of when he last heard that note in the dark mines of Moria, just before it fell to the cold stone floor as he gazed in disbelief and fear at the Balrog.   
  
Legolas shook his head, disregarding the memory, and fitted one of the arrows he had fletched that morning to the string. His keen eyes searched the trees around him for a suitable target. Finally, he spotted one that would do—a knot halfway up the trunk of an old oak tree that stood a great distance away. Legolas drew back on the string of the bow and narrowed his eyes in concentration, judging both the angle and the distance of his shot. A slight breeze from the south feathered across his face and he took it into consideration as well, adjusting his stance appropriately. The elf set the arrow to flight and watched its graceful journey through the air, grimacing as it hit the tree.   
  
"You were off to the right, Legolas."   
  
Legolas started at the sound of the voice, for he had not heard the speaker's approach. He scowled as he turned to address his friend, hiding the bow nonchalantly behind his back. "I can see that for myself, Celebhil. I need not you to point this out."   
  
"Nay, that is true," Celebhil said, mirth stealing into his bright green eyes. "But it appears you are in need of an archery lesson. Might I be of assistance in this, my prince?"   
  
"Nay, Celebhil," Legolas answered curtly. He glanced around the practice field in search of something that might provide a brief distraction.   
  
"What is it, Legolas? Is something amiss?" Celebhil inquired, following the prince's glimpses.   
  
Nothing suitable presented itself. "It is nothing," he sighed, disappointed.  
  
"Ai, I see! You seek out a closer target, one you _will_ be able to hit. Perhaps that will do," Celebhil said, pointing toward a tall poplar that stood barely twenty feet away.   
  
"I see a fine target standing in front of me," Legolas warned.   
  
Celebhil laughed. "My, but you are a prickly one this day. Your aim was not that terrible," he soothed mockingly. "You need not be overly upset with yourself."   
  
"It was not my aim," Legolas corrected tersely. _Valar, make him stop! _   
  
"If it is not the archer, then the fault must lie with the instrument. But surely the great bow of the Galadhrim is not to blame?" The elf's words brimmed with skepticism.   
  
"Nay, it is not," Legolas assured.   
  
Celebhil looked at him doubtfully. "One of your answers would prove to be untrue. You would perjure yourself to me, my prince?" he inquired, bringing his hand to his heart, a look of deep hurt dancing upon his face.   
  
"Nay, I do not," he answered simply. Legolas bristled inside. He could not take much more of Celebhil's questioning and he knew the elf would soon discover what it was that he wished to hide. The prince's mind began to whirl as he sought a possible explanation.   
  
"I choose to believe that the fault lies not in my comrade and my prince whom I have respected highly and followed indubitably for nearly two thousand years," Celebhil said with excessive reverence. "Thus, it must lie with the bow. Allow me to see it. Perhaps we together might find its fault and resolve the problem."   
  
Legolas' hand clutched the bow tighter behind his back. "That will not be necessary, Celebhil," he said, steeling his voice and his gaze.   
  
"I mind not, Legolas," he said, taking a step toward the prince.   
  
Legolas took a step back in response.   
  
"What do you hide?" Celebhil asked, tilting his head slightly as he took another step closer.   
  
"Leave off, Celebhil," Legolas advised.   
  
"Legolas?" the elf questioned playfully.   
  
"Celebhil," Legolas replied coldly.   
  
Celebhil bolted forward, but Legolas had been expecting the move from his friend. He turned at the same instant and started to run, his strides long and quick and his arms pumping wildly, his left hand still keeping its firm grip on the bow.   
  
"Where will you go, Legolas?" Celebhil called out. "You cannot escape!"   
  
Legolas continued to run, ignoring the inevitable truth of his friend's words. His eyes scoured the trees in front of him and he glimpsed a branch hanging low. He turned abruptly, willing his legs to carry him farther and faster. Legolas chanced a quick look over his shoulder and saw that his sudden change of course had failed in furthering the distance between he and Celebhil. Legolas turned his head forward again, concentrating on the path in front of him. The branch was rapidly approaching. _Celebhil may be faster on the ground, but in the trees he is a maladroit troll,_ Legolas assured himself as he launched his body off the ground and reached out his free hand to grasp the branch. He pulled himself upward as fast as he could manage, but was slowed somewhat by the lack of use of his other hand. One leg swung up onto the branch, and Legolas was promptly poised to spring further up into the tree's boughs. He started to draw his other leg up, but before he could accomplish the move, Celebhil's strong hands clamped firmly around his ankle and calf, pulling him downward. Legolas cried out as he lost his balance on the branch. He hit the ground hard, landing on his back, and gasped for air. Quick as flash, Celebhil situated himself atop the prince, straddling his legs so securely that he could not budge. His hands seized Legolas' wrists and held them tightly against the ground. Thranduil's son made a valiant effort to free himself, but his attempts were in vain as his friend had the leverage. There was no way the prince was getting out of this fix.   
  
Legolas' eyes met Celebhil's in a hard stare.   
  
Celebhil bent close, bringing his face mere inches from Legolas', and smiled wryly. "Do you yield?"   
  
Legolas turned his head to the side, breaking the stare. Celebhil's hot, rapid breaths beat against his burning cheek.   
  
"Do you yield?" Celebhil asked again, more forcibly.   
  
"Yes," Legolas conceded angrily, snapping his head around in frustration and fixing Celebhil with a feral look. "Now unhand me, you git!"   
  
Celebhil released Legolas' wrists and leaned back on his haunches, still preventing any movement of Legolas' legs. The wry smile remained upon his face but was twisting into one of smug mischievousness.   
  
Legolas sat up as best he could, leaning back on his hands for support. "Get off," he growled.   
  
"You need only ask, my prince," Celebhil said genially, as he repositioned himself into a crouched position over Legolas.   
  
Legolas tried to take the opportunity to gift his friend with repayment for his humiliation, but Celebhil was too quick. The prince scowled at the elf who now sat safely cross-legged across from him, hands resting upon the bow he held in his lap.   
  
"So _this_ is what you sought to hide." Celebhil picked up the bow, ran his fingers across the wood, and then plucked the string. "What is this?"   
  
The prince rubbed his wrists, studying the faint red marks Celebhil's strong grip had created upon them. "It is a bow," Legolas answered plainly, looking up.   
  
Celebhil scowled. "I know that," he said, his words possessing a biting tone.   
  
Legolas' eyes grew wide with virtue. "I simply answered the question you asked," he pointed out. "There is no need to charge me with ineptitude when it is you who falls short."   
  
Celebhil's brows drew together in stern concentration. "Why do you use _this_ bow and not the one given to you by Galadriel?"   
  
Legolas peered up at the bright blue sky peeking through the lush green leaves of the trees overhead. It was not the first time the youngest son of Thranduil found himself in a situation in which one wanted an explanation he did not want to give. Over his two thousand years, he had had to dodge many a question poised to him by not only his sire, but also his older brothers and his warder, even Aragorn a time or two. He was quite masterful, even for an elf, at the delicate art of forming responses that essentially answered the question but strayed far from what the inquiring mind actually wanted to know. Unfortunately, Celebhil was rather adept at the game himself, learning well from the prince during their many exploits. It would be prove nigh unto impossible for either elf to accomplish his objective, and Legolas had no doubt that they would be at it throughout the entire night and well into the next day before one of them finally forfeited. Legolas decided it best to take a different tactic.   
  
"Were all accounted for on your planting team?" he asked, posturing himself regally.   
  
"You cheat, Legolas. You cannot change the subject. You must answer my question," Celebhil reprimanded, his tone reminding Legolas greatly of an elfling who had not yet seen his third decade.   
  
"I must answer no one's question. I am your prince, Celebhil. It is you who must answer mine," he admonished, doing his best impersonation of Thranduil.   
  
"You released me from all obligations to you centuries ago. I no longer am bound to answer to you," Celebhil said self-righteously.   
  
Legolas felt a surge of regal mischievousness within him. "Then I, Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of _Eryn Lasgalen_ and Lord of _Edhilbar_, hereby decree that all privileges and liberties priorly granted to Celebhil Astaldion, a mere esquire in my court, are to be surrendered from this day forth."   
  
Celebhil's face fell in disbelieving shock. "You can't do that," he protested, forgetting to close his mouth.   
  
"I just did," Legolas observed smugly. "My judgment stands, as does my question. Answer me," he ordered, maintaining his princely decorum.   
  
Celebhil glowered, grumbling at the ground distasteful words that Legolas was able to hear but not quite able to decipher.   
  
"You keep your prince waiting, Celebhil," Legolas sang. He was gifted with a deadly look from his friend, causing him to laugh heartily. "If it will appease you, I _may_ consider answering what questions you have, but only once you have answered all of mine."   
  
"So be it, my lord," Celebhil grudgingly complied, setting the bow aside. "All elves assigned to the north team were more or less accounted for."   
  
"More or less?" Legolas asked, amused and seeking further qualification.   
  
"Yes, more or less."   
  
"Celebhil…," Legolas cautioned.   
  
"Two or three of us may have snuck off for a time," the elf admitted, his words haste. "Albeit a very short time," he continued, a note of complaint entering his voice.   
  
Legolas fixed his friend with a curious look, but Celebhil refused to meet his gaze, instead finding the grass in front of him to be in dire need of his scrutiny. Legolas knew there was far more here than Celebhil wanted to detail to him and probably more than Legolas wanted to know, or even should know. The prince decided to have mercy on his friend and abandoned the topic for the time being. _The truth will out eventually._ "Then none left the immediate area of the planting fields?" he inquired instead.   
  
Celebhil's brow knitted as he looked up at Legolas. It was obvious the elf had been expecting his friend to pursue knowledge of who the two or three were and exactly what it was that they had been up to. "Nay," he answered.   
  
Puzzlement knitted itself upon Legolas' brow in turn. The prince had hoped that Celebhil's answers might provide him with a possible explanation of who it was that had provided the woman with the rabbit. But his line of questioning appeared to be going nowhere fast. Legolas knew it was doubtful that an elf would have left the site of the plantings and ventured that far away and into his glade. And the timing to accomplish such was tight, for the glade was nearly half day's journey away from both Edhilbar and the nearest fields. In any case, if it had been an elf who had chanced upon the woman, Legolas was certain her rediscovery would have been promptly reported back to him.   
  
Legolas rubbed the back of his neck as feelings of disconcertion stirred within him for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. _All this is brought upon by that woman,_ he realized irritably, recalling his already bad day which was progressively getting worse.   
  
Upon his return to _Edhilbar_ late the night before, he had slipped thankfully unseen back to his dwelling. Only an old grey owl had taken notice of him, letting out a delighted hoot at the sight of the naked elf creeping through the wood. But things had gone downhill from there. He had not been able to find rest during the night, for he was too busy chastising himself for the choice he had made that afternoon in the glade. To put himself in that predicament in the first place was poor planning and clear evidence that the elf severely lacked good judgment. But the result of his choice was what actually irked Legolas. In deciding to forego the rather exposed encounter with the women and to instead steal away into the woods, the elf had left his clothing behind. If it had been as insignificant as that, he would not have minded in the least. However, as the cruel fates would have it, clothing was not the only item abandoned. His beloved bow and quiver, cherished gifts from Galadriel, had rested upon the west bank of the stream as well. Legolas was sick with regret and self-loathing for allowing that to occur. _Why I did not think to place my belongings on the east bank near to the trees I will never know!_   
  
Beyond that, the elf's horse was missing. He had desired greatly to take Arod out for a relaxing jaunt that morning, but when he entered the stables, the stall was empty and no horse could be found. Legolas' immediate explanation for such was that one of the planting teams had enlisted Arod's aid in transporting supplies. _But Arod is too proud for that,_ he reminded himself. _He has deemed it bad enough that he should be forced to haul Gimli around._ Besides which, one of the elves would have thought to ask the prince himself if his horse could be borrowed for the task. He had inquired of some who remained in Edhilbar about Arod's whereabouts, but each had thought that the prince was responsible for the absence of the horse. Legolas tried numerous times to convince himself that either Arod had managed to somehow open the gate himself or someone had done so for him, though what reason they would have for doing so perplexed him even more. The fact that Arod had not responded to his whistles did not cause him to be too overly concerned however. _He is a fickle as a foal, and is probably out having his own amorous encounter,_ Legolas reasoned, glancing at Celebhil.   
  
"Legolas?"   
  
Legolas realized he had not spoken for quite a few minutes and was surprised Celebhil had not interrupted his ponderings sooner. "It is nothing," Legolas said, then smiled half-heartedly.   
  
Celebhil nodded weakly. The elf's shoulders slouched ever so slightly, and the lighthearted play and amusement that the two friends had so easily shared and eagerly enjoyed just moments before seemed to drift away in the subtle breeze. Legolas winced inwardly as regret pricked his heart.   
  
"Know you where Arod is?" Legolas asked, feeling a sudden and overwhelming need to share some of his concerns with his friend.   
  
"Nay," Celebhil answered. "He is missing?"   
  
"He was not in the stables when I went there this morning, and he did not come back when I called for him," Legolas explained.   
  
"Strange," Celebhil said, his voice trailing off.   
  
"Indeed," Legolas replied, and a veil of silence dropped over the two friends again. Legolas watched intently as Celebhil's fingers played with the grass in front of him.   
  
"Talathion was acting rather peculiar yesterday," Celebhil finally said, breaking the silence but keeping his eyes on the ground.   
  
"That is nothing new," Legolas reminded him. "How so this time?" he prodded.   
  
"I informed him of your decision to leave and something seemed to come over him, to possess him. He does not want you to go, Legolas." Celebhil's head shook forlornly. "Neither do I, but I know it is best. I am glad we had this time together though," he said sadly, bringing his gaze up. "I did not expect to find you here, but I am glad I did. When will you leave?"   
  
Legolas' brow furrowed. "Of what do you speak, Celebhil? I have made no decision to leave."   
  
"You said so yesterday, just after the planting ceremony," Celebhil replied.   
  
"Nay, I did not."   
  
"Yes, you did," Celebhil contended. "You said that you had other matters to attend to, that you needed provisions, that you had to depart, and that we would see each other again, soon," Celebhil remembered carefully, counting the different statements on his fingers.   
  
Legolas laughed for a long moment at his friend's unfortunate blunder. Celebhil only looked at him expectantly, his eyes pleading for explanation.   
  
"Does this not constitute seeing each other again, soon?" Legolas asked between his mirthful expulsions.   
  
"You have been associating with mortals far too much, Legolas," Celebhil scolded, failing to join in the merriment that came about at his expense. "Again and soon have very different connotations for an elf," he clarified brusquely, crossing his arms resolutely.   
  
Legolas struggled in bringing his laughter to a halt. "My sincerest apologies, friend. I will attempt to be more mindful of this in the future," he said, sniggers bursting forth periodically.   
  
Celebhil's stern gaze did not ease up.   
  
"How may I make it up to you?" Legolas asked, seeking to bring cheer back to his friend.   
  
Celebhil raised an eyebrow and Legolas watched as muted green pools glanced about the trees. It did not take long for the elf's expression to brighten, revealing his success in finding something to be of his liking. Legolas tracked his friend's glimpses and his gaze fell beside Celebhil. His stomach sank as Celebhil picked up the bow, a gleam creeping into the elf's eyes.   
  
"Explain this," Celebhil said, his tone telling Legolas he would not be dissuaded.   
  
"It is a long story," Legolas sighed.   
  
"Long for an elf, or long for a mortal?"   
  
Legolas stifled the urge to raise an eyebrow. "Long for both."  
  
"We have all eternity," Celebhil pointed out, placing one elbow upon a knee and resting his chin in his hand, settling in to listen.   
  
"Yes. Yes, we do," Legolas nodded his agreement. "But before I tell you, you must guarantee me one thing...."   
  
"And that would be, my prince...?"   
  
"Promise you will tell none of this to Talathion," Legolas said, grimacing at the faint note of dread that errantly entered his voice.   
  
Celebhil eye's sparkled with glee. "_Only_ if you promise to reinstate my privileges and liberties first."   
  
  
  
  


***********

  
  
  
**A/N:**  
  
Tilion – the Maia who steers the Moon  
Arien – the Maia who guides the Sun  
Arda – Middle-earth  
Aman – the land in the West, where Valinor is   
_Eryn Lasgalen_ – the new name of Mirkwood  
Thranduilion – son of Thranduil  
Astaldion – son of Astald  
  
Not sure this is worth mentioning, but in my Middle-earth universe, Legolas is not quite two thousand years old. I like the idea that he never knew Greenwood the Great. Shadow fell on Greenwood is 1050 (Third Age); it is now the year 3026. I didn't pin down a specific year for his birth—that would be just plain obsessive. [Legoals: Like she's not obsessed already?]  
  
Also, if you're a stickler for details and are lucky enough to possess a mind that remembers everything, you might find some minor inconsistencies from previous chapters (the number of days that have passed , what bank of the river Legolas left his clothes on, etc., etc.). I have revised these things either to better suit my needs or to fit the picture I have in my mind. I replaced the chapters when I posted this, so if you are a new reader (welcome!), the changes may not have taken affect yet. They really are minor and trivial and were only made because this author is an annoying perfectionist, so they shouldn't affect the story.  
  
Is it just me, or does anyone else out there kind of feel that Legolas and Celebhil should be more than "just friends" or at least have had some sort of history along that line? I know some of you aren't into that kind of thing—I wasn't at first either and I do prefer our favorite elf with the opposite sex whenever he is paired—so I assure you that nothing of the sort will happen between them in this story. But I could be compelled to write a backstory that explores their relationship.... (But only when this is finished.)   
  
  
  


**Response to Reviewers**

  
  
Al & Legolas – Thanks for the excellent job beta'ing! Sorry though-- _I_ am the author; hence, _I_ am the one in control of who gets inserted as what in this story, and so _I_ am the fish! Muahahaha. Thanks for letting me know your wish though. Maybe you should get Legolas to talk to Gandalf when he goes back; the wizard might be able to turn you into a fish. Aw, the way Legolas sleeps sounds so adorable. He makes a snuffling sound?! Is it like how Big Bird snuffles? You know who Big Bird is—right, Legolas? [No, Legoals—I didn't mean that big bird! Now that's just plain rude. Ai, Valar.]   
  
Mija – And very nice of you to review. Thanks! So I see that you, too, want to be a fish. Well, I _might _possibly let you be a fish in that stream.... But just so you know—I am _THE_ fish.   
  
Stimpy, formerly Joy Took – Welcome, welcome! I'm glad you're here. And thank you for reviewing. You're impressed? And not just impressed, but hugely impressed? That makes me feel really good! Thanks! I hope you continue to be entertained.   
  
jenolas – Poor Talathion (copyright jenolas) indeed! And Poor Aragorn (copyright PuterPatty) too. Actually, I think the king does a pretty good job holding his own against the elf, but I never get to use my phrase, so "Poor Aragorn" (copyright PP) away. [No, no, don't pour him away, Legoals. Ai, Valar.] The mysterious woman does have perfect timing, doesn't she? And no, you need not comment on the nekkid bathing—I know exactly what you're thinking. Thanks for the review.   
  
TreeHugger – Wow! Your review was so long, I think I'd end up writing a whole chapter just responding to the highlights alone. Keep it up though—I love it! And you love Talathion?! I think you made the warder blush! Seriously though, credit must be given to you and all the other wonderful reviewers for providing the inspiration to make Talathion into something much more than he was originally supposed to be. I'm quite proud of him so thank you for being part of the catalyst in his development.   
  
YellowSun – I had a dream last night that you actually did get to leave a signed review. Very weird, and it was in color and I hardly ever remember my dreams in color. Strange.... No matter, signed or unsigned—I'll take them all! So thanks. Yes, seven circles, I'm sure. And no, that wasn't the self-insert. But I suppose it could refer to me. Well, the pointed ears part anyway; golden hair is simply an added bonus. Of course, Elrohir and Elladan are just as enticing and they have dark hair (not that you would know that, or even care.) And I think the better question to ask would be how would the wet, nekkid elf react to me reacting to the wet, nekkid elf.   
  
Ithilien – I'm glad to hear there's no Mary Sue here yet. Thanks for keeping a lookout for her. There really hasn't been much opportunity for her yet, but the Legolas/OC part is drawing near (after one or two chapters, I think--Talathion's been demanding a lot of attention). Anyway, I hope that will continue to be the case. Keep thinking along those metaphorical lines when it does come. LOL—Talathion does need to take a chill pill; I'll have to pick some up for him at Walgreens. I don't think Arwen's Naproxen Sodium will work for the problems he's got. ;)   
  
Melian – Wow, three reviews. And another long one! And some many intriguing insights about Talathion! Girl, you have got to stop making those great comments about him, else we're never going to get to the romance part! And you wouldn't want that to happen, would you? No, no, I kid. Keep those wonderful remarks coming—the characters are taking this fic in an entirely different direction than I ever envisioned and I'm having lots of fun just tagging along wherever they go. Ah yes, the fish—I'll enroll you in the school too.   
  
Bride of Legolas – Not sure when you'll make it here—but I hope you do—thanks for the review on chapter two. Er, one. But that just rhymed so nicely, I had to go with it. Hot DAMN?! Thanks!   
  
Thanks to all the silent readers and especially those two or three out there of who are checking almost weekly(?)/daily(?) to see if I've updated. It really makes me want to write faster! Unfortunately this is a busy time of year. I have no idea when the next update will come, but I'll try my best not to make you wait a month for it again.  
  
  
  



	8. Something Amiss

I have been blessed with the two most wonderful betas in the world of fanfiction. Much thanks as always goes out to al and Melian. I love you guys!   
Also, the good and wise King of Eryn Lasgalen is mentioned thanks to the creative genius who is TreeHugger. Thanks for letting me borrow the phrase, nin mellon!   
  
  
  
  
**Disclaimer:** All characters and places belong to or inspired by Tolkien.  
  


**_El Gwedh Enni_  
(A) Star is Binding Me  
  
Chapter VIII – Something Amiss**

  
  
Legolas took in a deep breath, and then let it out ever so slowly.  
  
"I, Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of _Eryn Lasgalen_ and Lord of _Edhilbar_, hereby decree that all privileges and liberties priorly forfeited by Celebhil Astaldion shall be now restored to him." He spoke the words quickly yet in a most regal manner.   
  
Celebhil grinned at the prince. Legolas really did enjoy playing "Thranduil" sometimes. The formality was unnecessary, and the decrees—both the previous one dismissing his privileges and liberties and now this one reinstating them—probably meant nothing as there was no one to witness them. However, it was good to hear the prince make the second decree, just to be sure.   
  
"Ahem!" said Legolas, clearing his throat expectantly and causing Celebhil to jump slightly in response. He really could sound like his sire sometimes.   
  
"Yes, sorry," Celebhil said, returning to the moment. "I, Celebhil Astaldion, promise to divulge none of the information that Legolas Thranduilion, my Lord Prince, will share with me this day to Talathion...." His voice trailed off and he knit his brow in concentration as he sought to recall who exactly had begotten the warder.   
  
"Angpaurion," Legolas finished for him. "But it matters not. I accept your vow and will hold you to it."   
  
"Most generous of you, my prince," Celebhil said, bowing his head graciously from where he still sat cross-legged in front of Legolas.   
  
Legolas nodded, then turned his head up and away. His blue eyes studied the trees around him, as if he were analyzing every detail on bark and branches, memorizing the knots and gnarls, the twists and turns.   
  
Normally such behavior would have worried Celebhil, fearing the Call of the Sea was growing loud in Legolas' ear and that he was paying it heed, but he had made that mistake once already this week and he would not make it again anytime soon. Besides, given the circumstances, he could tell what thoughts actually harbored themselves in Legolas' mind. This was a classic "Legolas, youngest son of Thranduil" move if he ever saw one.   
  
"Ahem!" Celebhil said, finding it his turn to impersonate the good and wise King of _Eryn Lasgalen._   
  
The still form of Legolas neither jerked nor jumped at Celebhil's not-so-subtle hint. Instead, the noble elf turned his gaze back on his friend as slow as an inchworm might crawl along a tree limb towards the open beak of a robin, sitting there awaiting its meal.   
  
"Yes?" the prince asked, quirking an eyebrow.   
  
"Our statements have been made. You may begin telling your story about why you use your old bow this day, instead of the bow of the Galadhrim," Celebhil stated, trying to inject a note of regality into his voice as well.   
  
The only response made by the prince was a further raising of the eyebrow, if that was even possible.   
  
"Honestly, Legolas!" Celebhil said, growing quite exasperated with Legolas' game. "I know not what you seek to accomplish with all this maneuvering. You asked how you could make up your poor choice of words to me, and this is what I have identified," he said, holding up the bow and giving it a firm shake between them.   
  
Legolas sighed and his princely posture fell into the slumped shoulders of one who was resigning himself to torment. "Very well then. I will tell you, but you will believe it not."   
  
"I would hear it regardless," Celebhil said. _This should be good; it needs be for it to cause Legolas so much discomfiture._ Celebhil was determined that his friend would not soon forget whatever experience it was he sought to conceal. The sons of Thranduil were not easily rattled. Some would say that this was due to their father's blood coursing through their veins; that along with his golden hair, they had inherited his hard shell. Nothing ruffled the king's feathers. Nothing. Others, however, attributed the princes' steeled demeanor to the fact that, because their father was Thranduil, they had great need to develop a mechanism to deal with his weighty gazes and judgmental personality. Thus was born the manner in which things just did not affect them—fear, worry, pain, embarrassment. Thranduil's sons seemed to be able to dismiss anything and everything that might cause others to fret or despair or become abashed. For them, it was like water rolling off a duck's back. Which one was truly the case, Celebhil was unsure; he only knew he would make the most of this occurrence for some time to come.   
  
Watching and waiting for his friend to begin, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.   
  
Legolas began to pull at the hem of his tunic sleeve, something Celebhil hadn't seen him do since he was a novice archer, and something he had only done when an arrow had allegedly strayed from its course, whizzing by Talathion's ear or just past his nose. It was something Legolas did to buy time to conjure up a suitable story to explain why the arrow had strayed in the first place.   
  
"I was hard-pressed to abandon both bow and quiver. I know not when I shall recover it, and so I make use of this one until such time," he explained, picking up the bow from Celebhil's lap and twanging the string.   
  
"And what pressed you?" Celebhil asked, not nearly satisfied with the prince's much abbreviated explanation.   
  
Legolas began to study the ties of his soft boots, his brow creasing ever so slightly as he undid one of the knots and began to retie it. To the untrained eye, perhaps even to that of Talathion and King Thranduil, the furrow would have gone unnoticed, or have been attributed to the errant knot. Though he had not seen it for nearly fourteen hundred years, Celebhil recognized this look for what it actually was. To his eye, it was a warning sign that something was amiss, and that the prince was most likely responsible for that something. He oftentimes had been with Legolas when Thranduil's youngest son donned this look, usually after they had just stolen fresh pastries from the kitchens or released a few black squirrels in the princesses' private chambers. It was the look that would deign itself upon Legolas' countenance as he solidified in his mind the details of whatever tale he was spinning whenever his sire or Talathion interrogated him about ill happenings in or around the palace.   
  
Celebhil debated whether he should interrupt the prince's ponderings or if he should sit silently by, waiting until Legolas had it all figured out and would then tell him the tale. On one hand, it would be quite humorous to watch the prince scramble and make up his story as he went along. On the other hand, Celebhil was quite curious to hear the full tale as Legolas wanted it to be.   
  
In the end, the other hand won out. Legolas always did tell good tales.   
  
"You know of the northern glade?" Legolas asked eventually, as he untied the knot of his other boot and then retied it again.   
  
"The one where the willow stands as guard?" Celebhil prompted, to which Legolas nodded. "Of course I know of it." _It** is** your glade._   
  
"I sought yesterday to relax my troubled mind in the cool water of the stream that runs through it, but was caught unawares by the approach of that woman whom we found in the wood. In deciding to forgo an encounter with her, I was forced to leave clothes as well as bow and quiver behind," he explained, his voice remaining incredibly even and his gaze steady.   
  
Celebhil laughed heartily. _Legolas can surely do better than this._ "You lack practice, Legolas!" he cried out. "Come! Out with it! Let me have the real story."   
  
"I speak only truth," Legolas said, his gaze unfaltering.   
  
"Legolas, I promised not to tell Talathion and now I promise not to tell anyone else who would tell Talathion. You can be forthright with me."   
  
"I speak only truth," he repeated.   
  
Celebhil found his mirthful expulsions slowing down as he continued to watch the prince. He looked at his friend, studying his face, searching for any sign of deceit or falsity. He found none.   
  
"The woman...the mortal...the one who...," Celebhil indicated a slice upon his left cheek.   
  
"Yes, that woman," Legolas confirmed, annoyance written on his face from being reminded of the cut, though any evidence of it was now completely gone.   
  
"She is still alive? She is still well? How?"   
  
"She is still alive and still well. She has survived off what she could find in the glade, ligonberry blossoms among other things, and someone has recently provided her with more substantial nourishment."   
  
Celebhil creased his brow at this, looking at Legolas questionably. The prince had proven several times over his long years that he was indeed chivalrous and brave. He oftentimes had lent aid or rescued others under duress or in distress, especially when those others happened to be young maidens. True, his actions were not always made with the best judgment or deemed entirely necessary, for certainly Celebhil could think of more than one occasion when Legolas had rushed in to save the day when in fact aid was not needed or when it would have been wiser to seek reinforcement. The latter of these had perhaps cost the Woodland Realm the life of their queen and the newborn princess, and Legolas still carried the guilt of that knowledge with him. Celebhil had been with him that fateful day in Mirkwood, however, and he knew the difficult choice Legolas had been forced to make.   
  
"Yes, the provisions I took were for her, but I discovered someone else had already provided her with food."   
  
Celebhil shook his head free of the unwanted memory upon hearing Legolas' answer to his unspoken inquiry. He nodded, and focused his mind on what it was Legolas was telling him. A hundred questions bombarded his mind.   
  
"Then you have spoken with her? Who is she? What did she say? Why is she here?"   
  
"Please, Celebhil," Legolas pleaded, raising his hands to block the barrage of questions. "Between you and the Call of the Sea...."   
  
All thoughts, all questions were suddenly swept away from Celebhil's mind. An empty feeling seemed to fill his stomach.   
  
"A jest, my friend, but one made in poor taste," Legolas said apologetically. He reached out a hand and placed it upon Celebhil's, squeezing it gently. "Forgive me."   
  
Celebhil looked into the prince's eyes and saw the regret they held, and the sorrow barely hidden underneath. It seemed ill to him. That Legolas was able to make light of the Call of the Sea should be promising, something that spoke of his coming to terms with it, or at least having some control over it. However, it had hurt Celebhil, for what reason he knew not, that he should be associated with it, even if it was only a jest. Legolas loathed its Call, and it weighed heavily upon his mind and his heart. It was a strange affliction, for he knew of others who anticipated its Call and would welcome it with open hearts when finally awakened within them. As for himself, Celebhil neither dreaded nor looked forward to it; it was simply a fact of life and one he would accept if and when it stirred within him. But he was different from Legolas; he had not the mortal ties Legolas had.   
  
Celebhil grasped Legolas' hand in return of the gesture and then let go. He smiled weakly, nodding for Legolas to continue spinning his tale.   
  


~~~

  
  
The horse hesitated momentarily as her rider led her by the reins through the thick wood. Here, the forest floor was rugged and uneven, and the foliage dense. Bright sunlight somehow managed to fashion a path through the almost impenetrable canopy, piercing through gaps and holes of the interlaced boughs with shafts of yellow light. It was tempting at times to step into one of those radiant beams, to linger there in its warmth, to gaze through it and out at the surrounding beauty, the contrasting colors of bark and leaves and dirt and grass muted slightly yet made all the more glorious by its seemingly other-worldliness.   
  
But neither the rugged terrain of the forest floor nor the beauty of the wood was what caused the horse to hesitate. She was somewhat familiar with this path and had to give little thought to where she should place her steps, as her rider led her masterfully. She had traveled across much rougher terrain than this, and so this part of their journey proved to be no challenge for her. Indeed, it was just another pleasant outing. The temptation to stop and enjoy the scenery held no sway over her, for she was a horse, and as a horse, she had only one objective—to reach her destination. Nay, the horse had stopped because she had sensed it too.   
  
Aragorn shifted his attention away from the casual talk of the guards who lead their horses in like manner and focused it instead on the trees above him. Roheryn's brief pause only confirmed his suspicions. True, he was just a man and thus had not really sensed their presence, but he had been raised among elves and that counted for something. He knew they were being watched and he knew their progress through the wood was being tracked. The company was finally drawing close to the elven settlement, and he knew it would not be long until the watchers would make their presence known. He also had a good idea how they planned to do it.   
  
A melodious twitter sounding like one of the many songbirds that inhabited the forest rang from the trees ahead of the company. Behind them, another songbird echoed the short tune. Aragorn felt the edges of his mouth curve into a tight smile and his eyes narrowed. He studied the trees above him, scrutinizing their branches as they swayed in the gentle breeze, and then turned his gaze to his six guards who still chatted idly. _They're oblivious._ Aragorn breathed a silent snort, feeling pride well up inside him. He should not fault them for their ignorance, he kept reminding himself. After all, they were men of Minas Tirith. They had spent their entire lives within the stone walls of the White City or on the fields of battle. They had little experience interacting with the other races of Middle-earth, and even less traveling within the borders of their realms. Aragorn stifled another chuckle and then spent several minutes suppressing the arrogance stirring within him. _The size of your head will soon begin to rival Haldir's if you are not careful._ All the same, it brought a twisted sense of justice to the king, knowing his guards—valiant men sworn to protect and defend their king—would in fact be caught off guard.   
  
Leaves rustled in the wind and drew Aragorn's gaze to the trees overhead once again. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, debating for a moment if he should warn the others. _They should be dropping down right about—_  
  
Suddenly and silently an elf landed directly in front of him, an arrow fitted to the string of his bow, the pointed tip mere inches from the amused expression playing across Aragorn's face.   
  
_Now,_ Aragorn finished the thought, feeling quite pleased with himself for having perfectly anticipated the timing and location of the elf's appearance and for drawing his sword so quickly. His eyes darted to the left and right to take in his guards, caught severely unawares just as he had predicted, some still in the process of clumsily unsheathing their swords, some trying to calm the horses. The guards were clearly alarmed by the abrupt appearance of the elf, and they seemed to be more than a little flustered and unsure how to react. A feeling of satisfaction washed over the king.   
  
Aragorn brought his gaze back to the elf before him, whose own gaze flittered between the man's eyes and what the man held against the seam of his leggings.   
  
"Well met, King of Gondor," the elf greeted, forgoing the customary elven salutation of an elaborate bow but favoring a curt nod of his head instead.   
  
"Well met, indeed," Aragorn replied, flashing a toothy grin, wondering how long it would take the elf to directly acknowledge the fact that Aragorn held him at his mercy. Roheryn whickered beside him.   
  
"You are needlessly reckless, Mordil," a voice called out from the trees overhead in playful admonishment. Aragorn watched as a young elf maiden revealed herself, emerging gracefully from the tightly packed inner branches of one of the oak trees. "Celebhil would not be pleased if he found you could no longer perform certain duties."   
  
Aragorn raised an eyebrow at the elf. Mordil made to shrug his shoulders in response but quickly cut the action short, realizing the king had yet to retract his blade.   
  
"My liege?"   
  
Aragorn looked over at the captain of his guard who had come to stand beside him. Bertrand's normally calm voice was laced with worry, and his doubt on what to do was written plainly on his face. Aragorn noted the captain, as well as the others, had their swords drawn and were prepared to defend their king should more elves be dropping down from the forest canopy.   
  
"It's alright, Bertrand," Aragorn chuckled. "Have the men stand down," he continued as he drew back his sword and sheathed it, much to the relief of the elf in front of him. "Mordil was just being remarkably elvish, but I'm sure he'll think twice before pulling a stunt like that again. Won't he?" Aragorn questioned, giving the elf a disciplining look.   
  
"Perhaps," Mordil replied casually, his once tense body relaxing considerably.   
  
"King Elessar is right, Mordil," the elf maiden scolded, dropping down to the forest floor in such quick fluidity that it seemed she had been there the entire time. Her form seemed to sift itself out of the shadows of the trees as she walked over to them, allowing Aragorn to recognize her as Daewen. She had accompanied Legolas once many years ago to Minas Tirith out of a desire to aid her prince in his completion of Arwen's garden and to experience a world beyond her own; she had also been present at all the feasts Legolas hosted whenever Aragorn visited the elven settlement. "You must be more careful, for other's sakes as well as your own," she went on, tweaking Mordil's nose lightheartedly as she came to stand beside him. Then, turning her attention to Aragorn, asked, "To what good fortune do we owe this visit from the king?"   
  
Aragorn pondered briefly how to answer her question as her crystal blue eyes gazed into his. Talathion had mentioned that the only one other than him who knew of Legolas' decision to leave was Celebhil. He did not wish to be the one to bear the news of their prince's departure.   
  
"I've come to visit friends," he eventually answered, deciding to be honest, but not entirely forthright. "It is good to see you again, Daewen," he greeted her, bringing his hand to his heart and bowing. "And you as well, Mordil," he said, placing the elf in a headlock and mussing his dark brown hair.   
  
Daewen's tinkling laughter chimed in the forest air as Mordil struggled and finally broke away from the king's hold. Aragorn was gifted with a glare that really couldn't be called a glare as it was a look that conveyed much bewilderment as well.   
  
"I think you have Legolas to blame for helping him become adept at that move," Daewen surmised. "Him, or the twin lords. No doubt King Elessar had many years of practice in Lord Elrond's household in which to develop the skills necessary to hold an elf in a headlock."   
  
"The twin lords would be my guess," Mordil said, running his fingers through the long strands of now-tangled hair. "They are a dreadful duo," he finished with a grimace, as if he were reliving some experience from not too long ago.   
  
"Nay," Aragorn said with a smile on his lips. "Imagine the sons of Elrond and King Thranduil's youngest working their mischief together and you as their victim, then you will have it."   
  
Mordil laughed. "I do not doubt it. At such times, one would be wise to immerse themselves in the affairs of state and spend their days in court where the watchful eyes of Lord Elrond or King Thranduil could possibly protect them from the terrible trio. Even the endless hours of hearing petitions and amending declarations are not as awful as the trouble they three leave in their wake."   
  
"On that I would argue with you, Mordil, as of late," Aragorn said in a low voice, but chuckled anyway. His life had turned out to be more than he ever expected. It was true he lost dear friends along the way. Whether it be to their falling in battle or to their seeking peace and freedom from life's woes and pain across the Sea, it mattered not. The loss of their friendship was felt equally, regardless of the circumstances. True also, there were days he felt much like his wife and desired to be free from the cold confines of the White City's stone walls, and live the uncontrolled life of a Ranger once more. However, Aragorn had gained much along his journey to the throne—strengthening and establishing deep friendships, not only with Legolas and Gimli, but also with King Eomer and Princes Faramir and Imrahil. A dream, one he had thought never to make real, had become reality upon his marriage to Arwen, and their love had given him a son, filling him with a feeling which could never be fully conveyed with words or in song. Though there were days when marital bliss was not to be found within their household, those days served to remind them of the everlasting love they shared with another, and the making up was well worth enduring the daunting glares and the seemingly incurable wrath of the Evenstar. The White City had regained its towering glory, greatly due to the work of Gimli and Legolas for which he was ever grateful. Its pinnacles stood tall as a beacon in the west, displaying to all that Men, nay, the Free Peoples had triumphed over Shadow. In further consideration of it all, Aragorn could only take great pride in all that he accomplished in his life and within Minis Tirith and the Reunitied Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor.   
  
"Legolas, I am certain, would agree with you, King Elessar," Daewen said.   
  
Aragorn smiled thoughtfully. Legolas would agree with him on many things.   
  
"Does the prince know of your coming? He failed to mention it to us," the maiden continued when Aragorn said nothing in reply.   
  
"Nay, he does not," Aragorn answered with a shake of his head. "When did you last see the prince?" he inquired, feeling a small flame of hope trying to spark itself deep down. _She said Legolas had failed to mention anything. Does that imply she had just recently seen him? _Perhaps he was not too late to bid his friend farewell.   
  
"The prince graced us with his presence at the planting ceremony. That took place not two suns ago. He left shortly after," Daewen said. "I know not why. Only Celebhil saw him go, and he would say nary a word as to why Legolas left so soon." The young she-elf looked considerably on Aragorn as the flame of hope sizzled out with her words. "Something's amiss," she whispered.   
  
Mordil shot her a look; what emotion ignited it, Aragorn knew not. It was unreadable to him which surprised him somewhat. Having been raised among elves, he was possibly the only mortal gifted in reading the looks of elves, save Gimli perhaps; but Gimli's ability only applied to reading Legolas' looks. Aragorn had been exposed to the glances and gazes of many elves in his lifetime, and over that time knowledge of what a quirk of an eyebrow meant, or what a sparkle in one's eye alluded to, was almost innate at this point. Of course, there were still some of Arwen's looks of which he had yet to learn the meaning. Aragorn dismissed Mordil's look, but decided it would be wise to steer their conversation away from Legolas.   
  
"Did Talathion pass this way?" he asked.   
  
"Nay," Mordil said with his brows knitting together, followed by a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. "However, we are not the ones to ask. Daewen and I are not the ones patrolling the Eastern Wood."   
  
"Then have they?" Aragorn questioned further, indicating with a jerk of his head the trees above where he was certain elves waited unseen.   
  
The light in Mordil's brown eyes twinkled in response. "Ask them," he simply said.   
  
Aragorn sighed. This one was definitely a Wood-elf to the core. "Have you?" he called out overhead, his eyes roaming over the trees, searching for a sign of their presence. He did not miss the strange looks he got from all six guards who stopped their whispered talk upon his shout.   
  
"Nay, no sign of the prince's warder have we seen," a voice answered back somewhere from the branches of a tall oak some fifteen feet ahead. Aragorn swore he could hear snickering. From where exactly, he knew not.   
  
"Why do you ask?" Mordil said, a gleam stealing into his eyes. "Have you long missed the prince's warder since your last encounter with him? I heard tell he was quite enamored by the hospitality of your city, especially that shown to him by the fair maidens of your race."   
  
Aragorn made to answer, but only shook his head and gave a small smile at the elf's comment. All this time, Daewen had stood silent and watched him, and Aragorn finally became aware of it. The she-elf nodded to him as if she had been gifted with some understanding, and turned to Mordil.   
  
"Perhaps you should bear ahead and bring tidings of King Elessar's arrival to the colony," she said, addressing Mordil. "I will escort the king and his men to _Edhilbar._ Our travel will progress slowly through what remains of this winter bracken, and you will have plenty of time to arrange for their quarters to be put in order, as well as alert the kitchen to prepare a fine dinner this night."   
  
Mordil's eyes searched Daewen's for a moment. Then he nodded and quickly leapt up into the oak from which he had dropped, disappearing back into its branches. The trembling of limbs and the quivering of leaves above the rugged path, if it could be called a path, further ahead was the only indication of the elf's swift passage through the trees.   
  
Daewen turned to Aragorn, and he smiled faintly at her. She knew. He looked over to his guards. Bertrand met his gaze and nodded, understanding his king's silent command. The captain spoke some words to the others and soon they were ready to continue on their way.   
  
The young elf maiden walked beside Aragorn as he led Roheryn through the forest. No words passed between the two for a time. Aragorn was hesitant to breach the silence, for in all his dealings he knew it was best to leave an elf alone with her thoughts until the elf was willing to share those thoughts.   
  
"Your city celebrates the destruction of the One Ring in a few days, yet you come here," Daewen finally said.   
  
Aragorn scratched Roheryn's neck, saying nothing in reply as they continued to walk along.   
  
"Legolas, to the surprise of us all, shows up and performs the planting ritual, the only time he has ever done so since the establishment of _Edhilbar_," she continued. Aragorn could see the details spinning through her mind, falling into all the right spaces. "Celebhil dismisses himself early from the plantings." Daewen's head shook slightly from side to side. "Only one reason do I see for the coinciding of these events within a manner of days," she said, turning her gaze from the forest floor onto Aragorn. "He will be departing soon."   
  
Aragorn let out his breath heavily. He knew she would figure it out; it had been useless to try and keep it from her, for she was both observant and intelligent. The King of Gondor and Arnor did not often visit the elves of Ithilien, much to his disappointment, and certainly he did not do so when his duties as king required him in his city, with his people. Only grave matters could call him away.   
  
"That is what Talathion reported to me when he came to Minis Tirith yesterday," he replied. "He knew not how soon. I left in all haste hoping to see him one last time."   
  
He waited for her response to his words, but she gave none. Her expression remained unchanged as he watched her alongside, but nothing about her manner or conduct gave insight into what she was feeling.   
  
"I am sorry," he finally said, unable to undergo the weighty silence any longer. What prompted his apology, he was not rightly sure. It might have been more for his ears than for hers. Aragorn knew not the extent of her relationship with Legolas. He could tell she held great admiration for her prince, and great affection too, though she always acted rather natural and cool in Legolas' presence. Whether she felt something more for Legolas, and he in turn for her, Aragorn was never quite certain. Indeed, Legolas was highly revered by all his people, and Aragorn was not oblivious to some of their ploys for his attention or affection. Nevertheless, it always seemed to him that Daewen was content with sharing only a deep friendship with the prince, which esteemed her greatly to the king.   
  
"Long have we known this day would come," she finally said, breaking Aragorn's thoughts. "Some have feared it more than others, but all will be filled with sadness upon his leaving."   
  
"Have you feared it?" he asked gently.   
  
"Nay, but it saddens me greatly. He does not wish to leave. He leaves much behind. It is ill that he should have been afflicted with the sea-longing just as he discovered so much joy still to be had in Middle-earth."   
  
Aragorn winced slightly at her words.   
  
"My apologies, my lord king," she said hastily, stopping their steps and placing her hand gently upon his arm. "I place no blame on you. It is not by your design that the sea-longing was awakened within him. You must believe this and heed not what others may tell you." Her blue eyes met with Aragorn's and gazed deeply into them. "Legolas knew the warning; it was ever in his heart. This he has told me. Also he told that it was loyalty to you and your cause that allowed him to push aside his fear and doubt and follow you, and that he would make the same choice again."   
  
Her words soothed his troubled heart, and he smiled his thanks to her.   
  
"I would bear it for him," she said, shaking her head as they began their journey toward the village again.   
  
Aragorn glanced questionably over at her. The sea-longing was undoubtedly something which he would never fully understand, indeed something no mortal could ever understand, just as no elf could fully understand a mortal's death. Some seemed to fear the day when it would be awakened in them; others looked forward to the day when the urge to seek passage across the Sea would stir within their souls; and some, like his foster brothers, paid it no heed whatsoever.   
  
"Thrice have I journeyed south to the shores of the Bay of Belfalas. Thrice have I gazed out at the sea, feeling the warm water lapping upon my feet, tasting the spray of salty mist within my mouth, hearing the lonely cries of the gulls.... And thrice have I returned the same as when I left." Daewen shook her head and let out a mirthless laugh. "Not even I understand this yearning inside me," she said to him, again shaking her head. "It delights me to no end that I should be present in Middle-earth to see the dawning of the Age of Men, to be a part of Ennor's restoration. Yet I ache in want to see the shores of Valinor, to behold its majestic mountains and its verdant pastures, to be reunited with my mother and my father."   
  
Aragorn listened intently to her. He wondered if Arwen ever felt this way and this deeply. Daewen's talk served to remind him again of the sacrifice she had made because of her love for him. He knew she too yearned to see her father and her mother. She had cried long upon his shoulder one night shortly after the birth of Eldarion, so grieved was she that the child would never met his grandparents. Aragorn had found no words to comfort her, and only held her the entire night, offering the comfort of his strong embrace and his chaste kisses instead. She had cheered considerably upon her brothers' arrival to the White City the next week, but still Aragorn could sense her sadness. Ever since, when he looked upon her and their son, sorrow filled his heart.   
  
"Do you think it will ever be awakened within me?" Daewen questioned him, interrupting his silent ponderings.   
  
"You are asking the wrong person," he said, trying to sound lighthearted. "Mortals, even one such as me, know little of the sea-longing."   
  
She laughed, again mirthlessly, and sighed. "Forgive my melancholy. I should not burden you with my musings."   
  
"No apology is necessary, my lady. Your musings distract me from the burdens of my own," he said, a smile on his face.   
  
The corners of Daewen's lips curved up and the she-elf made to reply. Instead, she turned abruptly to face the south.   
  
"What is it?" Aragorn asked in a hushed voice, raising a hand to halt the guards who walked some distance behind them. His other hand found the hilt of his sword. Roheryn neighed fitfully.   
  
"Nothing to fear," she replied, placing her hand over his in effort to calm him and stop him from drawing his sword. She closed her eyes, extending her elven senses and concentrating on the sounds of the forest. "A horse, I think, draws near."   
  
They waited and watched the wood. Soon he heard the rustling sounds that had alerted Daewen. Aragorn was still somewhat tense, but he trusted Daewen and he truly felt no danger. A smile eventually twitched Daewen's lips and Aragorn squinted into the forest, trying to discern what it was she saw. Finally, he caught the sight of white flashing between the greens and browns of the forest bramble.   
  
"It is Arod!" Daewen exclaimed as the horse cleared the last of the thicket and made his way over to them.   
  
"Arod?'' Aragorn whispered, trying to unravel the meaning of the appearance of Legolas' horse. Roheryn greeted the horse with playful nudges, which he returned with equal merriment. "Do you often let the horses run free?" he asked Daewen, a sinking feeling invading his stomach.   
  
"Nay. Many are still out with the planting teams, but Arod stayed behind. He deems himself too fine a steed to be used as a mule horse," she answered with a laugh, scratching underneath the horse's muzzle. Arod protested when her scratches suddenly stopped. "You think this ill," Daewen said, her smile fading.   
  
"I don't know. Legolas has let him run free before...," Aragorn said, his voice trailing off.   
  
"But he may have freed him because he has already departed," Daewen finished for him.   
  
Aragorn's eyes locked with hers. Quickly they resumed their journey through the forest toward _Edhilbar_ once again, this time at a hastened pace.   
  
  
  
  


**********

  
  
  
  
  
Quite note from PP: I had told this author quite a while ago I would plug her amazing LotR stories. Well, Ithilien beat me to it, but I'm going to plug her anyway because her stories are fantastic. Go read the works of Teanna, http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=290949. They are rich in detail and description and have lovely characterizations of our favorite elf. You'll love them.   
  
  
  


**Response to Reviewers**

  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love you all! I have to especially thank the new reviewers, whose recent interest in this story kicked me in the butt and got me to push aside Elrohir and Elladan and let Legoals have his way with me for a time again. Thanks also to Blushing Bottom for the email!   
  
  
  
TreeHugger: Talathion is seriously blushing over here. He's got a crush on you, too, I think. Wait, just a sec. [Ok...yup...OK, I'll ask her. Now, go away!] Ah...Tree—Talathion wants to know if you're free next Friday. What should I tell him? That part with the elves traveling towards the Grey Havens was sad, wasn't it? I have to admit, the extended DVD did have some influence on both last chapter and this one. You can't help but feel sympathy, for the elves and for Aragorn. Yes, Celebhil is indeed faster than Legolas. Legolas can't be the best in everything, you know. That would make him a Marty Stu. ::grin::   
  
Mija: Let me assure that there will be no slash in this story. The only thing Legolas and Celebhil share in this is a very deep friendship. Legolas shall not be slashed, I promise. The Legomance definitely involves a het pairing. And I also promise there will be a Legomance part of this tale. I know it's taking me a long time to actually get there, but it is coming, and it will come fast and hard when it does.   
  
Daughter of Gorlois: Thank you for coming out of the shadows of Silent Readerdom to review. Heh—sometimes I have absolutely no idea where this is going either. I do know the ultimate outcome and know pretty much how it gets there, but sometimes my characters decide to take little detours along the way. So I have a "lingering" style? I loved that descriptor; thank you so much. Incidently, as I was writing this chapter, I had a strong feeling my style changed. I wonder if you get that sense at all.... I have given a lot of thought to Celebhil and Legolas, and I do believe I will write their story when this one is finished. Thanks for your encouragement!   
  
YellowSun: Dude, I know. Now, why don't all those dreams about me and the elf come true? Yes, elves are children; some like to call them elflings. Why doesn't it surprise me that you like Celebhil? Talathion does need a hug, but I don't think he'll let anyone get close enough to give him one...unless it's Tree. I'm glad to hear the theory still holds.   
  
Stimpy: LOL, sometimes this story is a mystery to me—hence, the month between postings. Be careful what you say about Celebhil there. We don't want your words coming true now, do we? ::grins mischievously::   
  
al and Legolas: ::PP laughs maniacally:: Heh. But I think you need to ask how ever did Talathion manage with the poor lass, that is until she found out it wasn't really Legolas. Because you know how rabid those women can be. ::grin:: And Celebhil and Legolas have played many a game, sometimes against each other, sometimes working together against someone else. So I will eventually tell you about some of them. And the jaybird was just for you, nin mellon. So I'll even let you pretend you were the jaybird. You're back, Legolas! I waited just for you to post this, melethron. Well, no, you can blame the long delay on both Elladan and Elrohir and your evil brother who abandoned me for warmer weather. Anyway, you're back so now we can have all the bellybutton drinks we want! ::drool::   
P.S. And thanks for the title, al!  
  
Elf of Sirannon: When last you reviewed, you were at chapter two. I hope you've made it here. Let me know. ::grin:: Legolas is sweet. That's funny; I prefer him with mortals too. I don't know why. Maybe it's because it's easier for me to imagine myself as that character. ::cheeks turn pink, tries to hide in shame:: However, are you certain this is a Legolas/mortal pairing?   
  
jenolas: I'm sure a lot of people wish Talathion would take the next boat to anywhere. Those people will regret that later on. ::grin:: Legolas, being infuriating?! Yes, I guess so. But we still love him, right? You'll feel sorry for him soon enough. Yes, I was the fish. And I have just one word of comment: "Yum." :)   
  
Ithilien: Yes, my question about Arwen was answered. Thank you! Talathion is uptight; I know some of his reasons, but not all. I will remember to ask him. I think he is one of those older elves who is just very rigid in his ways and he has to have a hand in everything, even though he knows he shouldn't. Also, I think he is compensating for past mistakes; he's got control issues now. His part is not finished at all, but I think he'll step back into the shadows for a little bit. Celebhil did reach rather long, and Legolas knows this, but Legolas wants to make it up to his friend. He knows his sea-longing causes emotional turmoil for others too. As you can see though, he tries to keep the tale from Celebhil a little longer. Heh. No, losing all these possessions was not in my grand scheme. The knife, yes. The cloak, yes. The clothing, yes. His bow and quiver, no. That was an oversight at the time, but I kind of like how I had to make up for it. Regardless, Sorry Legolas!   
  
VladimirsAngel: Thank you for reading and reviewing and for loving Talathion! He's getting visions of starting a fan club soon. I'm sure everyone will scooch over and make room for you on the bench. I'm glad you've joined!   
  
Rashaka: Thank you for your great review. I feel especially honored about what you said about my dialogue. I put a lot of thought into trying to find the characters' voices and getting the conversations to flow naturally. I just couldn't allow the mysterious woman to dominate this story just yet. Reason number one being is that we are all here to read about our favorite elf, not her. Reason two: well, her story would be quite boring if I told it all from her perspective just yet, for both obvious and not-so-obvious reasons. Really, she's just been sitting out there in that glade, wandering around, looking at the flora, watching the fish. Who would want to read about that? I certainly wouldn't. And I certainly don't want to write it. She will begin to take a bigger part in this story soon, and the Legomance will jump into full swing after that. Get your Mary Sue bashers out!   
  
Melian: Better late than never, nin mellon. I'm glad you're back! Indeed, Poor Faramir! (copyright Melian) I doubt that I'm in the position to distribute copyrights, but you do so love him, so it's yours in my book. Now where to begin in responding to your review?! You make some many good observations and insights. Talathion is indeed a complex character, and he only revealed some of his motives for wanting Legolas to remain in Ennor. He has much more in store for us, but he's off taking a little vacation right now. Aragorn and Legolas certainly need a break from him. And who wouldn't want to hang out wherever Legolas is?! I'm surprised al and YD haven't gotten into serious trouble because of breaking fire code. As I told DoG, I'm giving much thought to Legolas and Celebhil; be patient. I couldn't believe Legolas lost the bow either. Legoals was in BIG trouble the day he pointed that fact out to me. Thanks for review and your emails. We've got lots to discuss. :)   
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Disturbance

**Disclaimer:** All characters and places belong to or inspired by Tolkien.  
  


**_El Gwedh Enni_  
(A) Star is Binding Me  
  
Chapter IX – Disturbance**

  
  
"Are you not coming?" Celebhil asked as he rose from his seated position.  
  
"Nay," replied Legolas, lifting his head to glance up at his friend and then to the treetops. "I feel much more at ease now, but there is still much to consider about what should be done about the woman. Besides, the sunlight is warm and the grass soft here."   
  
Celebhil could not help but smile as Legolas stretched out to lie in the grass, his hands pillowing his head and his eyes closing. He seemed to bask in the warmth of the sun, and a contented smile graced his fair features.   
  
"It is good to see you like this, Legolas. I—," Celebhil stopped short, the harsh words they had said to each other only a few days ago coming suddenly to mind. He wished not to cause such a quarrel again. "The trees sing of strange things. Do you hear it?"   
  
Legolas' brow creased in concentration and Celebhil immediately regretted giving voice to his observation. Legolas no longer heard tree song as well as he used to. "I hear it well," he said eventually, much to the relief of Celebhil. "They seem to be waiting...watching. They are amused, I believe."   
  
"Indeed, they are tittering with anticipation as well as amusement, though I know not what amuses them. You, perhaps," Celebhil said, chuckling. "Remember the time your sire found us napping on the forest floor?"   
  
The smile returned to Legolas' face, more radiant than before, but his brows drew further together. "You foolish elflings will find yourselves as orc fodder or spider bait one of these days!" Legolas bellowed, eyes still closed. Several birds took quick flight from the trees overhead and a few squirrels ceased their chattering. "Perhaps you will not enjoy sleeping under tree bough so much if you were to have to patrol them from now until eternity."   
  
Celebhil laughed uproariously. Legolas had intoned King Thranduil perfectly, as always. That the reprimand came with an expression quite different from the one the king usually wore added to the amusement he gained from the performance.   
  
"He was correct, was he not?" Celebhil asked once his laughter began to settle. "I, for one, did not nap under tree for at least three hundred years after we finally finished that century-long assignment. Of all places he had to assign us, it had to be the northern borders. That was the most boring century of my life."   
  
"It was not a century," Legolas said, opening one eye. "It was ninety-nine years." The eye slid shut. "And consider how Talathion felt. Then consider how I felt, stuck on countless patrols with one bored-to-death elf and one seething mad warder who would not let me forget that, once again, it was my actions for which he was being punished." Legolas sighed. "I still haven't slept under tree since, and I still will not have if you are going to stand there all day and block my sun."   
  
"Are you saying you would like me to join you?" Celebhil asked playfully.   
  
"No," came the curt reply. "Go away. You've gotten your story. Go blab it to Daewen and Mordil, if you must."   
  
"It was a good story, Legolas."   
  
"It was the truth," Legolas said, his voice firm, his jaw rigid.   
  
"I am certain it was," Celebhil appeased with a note of glee as he bent down over Legolas, blocking the bright sunlight streaming through the forest canopy.   
  
Legolas' eyes flew open, storm clouds of alarm and anger rolling in as he was met with the widening grin of his friend just a mere few inches away.   
  
"Pleasant dreams, my sweet prince," Celebhil sang, kissing him quickly on his cheek and leaping back just in time and just far enough to avoid Legolas' counter-maneuver.   
  
"Go find Daewen, Celebhil," Legolas ordered, glowering as he moved back into his stretched position in the grass once more. "And it will be the western wood for you!" he called out.   
  
Celebhil ceased his buoyant steps. "I think not, Legolas. Privileges and liberties after all," he said mirthfully, spinning around to continue heading back to Edhilbar so that he could follow his prince's first order.   
  
"Celebhil."   
  
Legolas' voice was soft but stern, and Celebhil feared that he might have crossed the line. He turned around slowly to face his prince. A clod of dirt exploded as it hit him square on his forehead.   
  
"It was not my aim," was all Legolas said, as he smiled pridefully and lay back down.   
  
Celebhil was about to retort when he noticed Legolas held another clod of dirt in his other hand, and so decided it best to keep silent. Rubbing under his eyes and spitting dirt out of his mouth, he swiftly turned and left the prince to himself.   
  
As he made the short journey back in the main village of _Edhilbar_, Celebhil found himself pondering over the story Legolas had told him. He still doubted it to be entirely true. Legolas' several insistences that it was truth, coupled with the reappearance of his fidgeting quirks, had served to further the elf's suspicions that it was not truth but that Legolas was hiding something else, though what that would be, he knew not.   
  
_Perhaps the woman really is in the glade, and he had more of an encounter with her than he wishes to tell of. _Celebhil dismissed the foolish thought quickly. For whatever reason, the woman had been deathly afraid of them when she had awoken from her deep sleep. It did not seem likely that she would consent to any kind of contact with an elf, nor was it likely that Legolas would initiate such contact. The stories told and jests made around campfire of the prince's renowned experience with maidens, whether they be elf or mortal, were shared in good fun and had little basis in reality. Indeed, as far as Celebhil knew, Legolas had not been with another since he had returned home from the War of the Ring and established the elven colony in Ithilien.   
  
Celebhil shook his head, abandoning the line of thinking, and returned to consider instead what purposes Legolas would have for not revealing the true reason he did not use the bow Galadriel had given him. Surely avoiding an awkward encounter with the woman, if he had really encountered her, and thus having to leave behind clothing and bow was not something of which to be so ashamed that one would feel the need to keep such an unfortunate occurrence to oneself. Celebhil was certain he would have made the same decision had he been in that situation. _Of course, I would not have put myself in that situation in the first place. _Yet Celebhil was not Legolas, and Legolas was whimsical like that. He could scarcely resist enjoying a relaxing dip in a pleasant stream whenever the mood took him, or when he found the need to think straight pressing, and at such times the prince gave little thought to consequences and even less attention to surroundings. _Perhaps Legolas was speaking truth.  
  
Then for what reason did he seek the comfort of the stream? _Celebhil questioned further. A troubled mind.... Legolas had said that, had he not?   
  
Celebhil's stomach churned with worry that the sea-longing had engaged Legolas in yet another bout. He really should have been immune, or at least accustomed, to such feelings of fret and concern for his friend's well being by now. After all, he had had to both live and deal with the prince's moodiness ever since his return from the War of the Ring. He had witnessed too many times both the crippling and unhinging effects the sea-longing wrought on Legolas.   
  
Celebhil pushed his ill feelings aside, recalling Legolas' earlier antics. The prince was in a much merrier state of mind as of late, more so than he had been in quite some time, and Celebhil told himself he had no real cause to be so concerned. After all Legolas had said the tree song had been strong and he seemed quite at ease lying beneath their boughs, listening to their deep musical voices. Perhaps it was possible for him to be content living under tree for a while longer.   
  
_But the Call of the Sea will one day take him from these shores, and it will be all too soon for him. _Indeed, that was what saddened Celebhil most. For him, Legolas departing Ennor would mean nothing more than being separated from his friend for a short time until eventually the Call stirred within him and they were reunited on the shores of Valinor. For Legolas, however, leaving the shores of Middle-earth meant leaving behind dear friends whom he would never see again, from whom he would be sundered forever. Celebhil was not ignorant of the pain of sadness and regret that this knowledge caused Legolas. The prince had inherited the heart of his mother—whenever he gave his love, he gave it fully and without regard for what that love would cost him. He knew it would tear Legolas to pieces whenever he finally would succumb and follow the desire of his soul. It was cruel, for in answering the Call of the Sea, Legolas would quench the constant ache he had endured for so long, but his heart would throb with painful loss because of the permanent severing of friendships.   
  
Celebhil sighed. Soon enough Legolas would be faced with making the choice to follow his soul rather than his heart, and when he did, Celebhil would be there to pick up the pieces. He was quite relieved that his misfortunate bungling of Legolas' "departing" words had been what it was. He had not looked forward to informing the other elves of _Edhilbar_ of Legolas' departure, nor King Thranduil, nor Gimli and King Elessar for that matter. He was also quite relieved that Legolas had taken the misunderstanding well and had not been upset with him for thinking he would leave in such a hushed manner. Indeed, Celebhil was surprised Legolas had laughed about it and had appeared to even enjoy his blunder. Surprised, and relieved.   
  
He was also relieved that it was only Talathion he had told of Legolas' departure, as that would make the emendation of his mistake much easier. He had not seen the warder since they had last spoken. Talathion had not taken the news well, which Celebhil regretted, but the warder would someday have to face the truth that Legolas would leave these shores and no longer have need of his protection. Celebhil did not understand Talathion's overly protective nature as of late. He knew not what he sought to protect Legolas from, nor why he fought so hard to protect him from whatever it was. True, the warder had always been watchful over his prince, King Thranduil's threats had assured that, but there was no reason now why he should be so overbearing. This was a time of peace—the threat of fell creatures that had served Saruman and Sauron had been greatly reduced, and those that remained were seldom foolish enough to venture into the wood or close to any civilization of elves or men. Additionally, Legolas had proven himself many times over to be a mighty warrior who could take care of himself.   
  
Celebhil breathed a resigning sigh. He had known the warder for nearly three millennia, and he was certain it would take just as long to even begin to understand him and his ways. For whatever reason, Legolas' eventual departure would evidently be hard on Talathion, and again Celebhil vowed to himself to be there to pick up the pieces.   
  
Suddenly Celebhil realized, _Talathion still believes Legolas to have left. _   
  
Opposing thoughts crashed within his mind as he mulled over what to do to rectify the situation of which he had ultimately been the cause. He debated if he should go searching for Talathion, but he had no idea where to start his search. Besides, Talathion had probably gone to seek solitude in order to come to terms with his prince's departure, and thus would want to be left alone. If that was the case, Celebhil was certain he did not want to know in what condition he would find Talathion. _Of course, it might provide a future means of extorting favors from the warder_, Celebhil briefly considered, a smile tugging on his lips.   
  
"Celebhil, where is Legolas?"   
  
The sound of Daewen's frantic voice shunted all of Celebhil's whimsies and worries aside.   
  
"Greetings to you too, beautiful one," he said, sweeping her hand up in his and kissing it.   
  
"Celebhil, where is Legolas?" she asked again, more fervently.   
  
"He is in one of the practice glades," Celebhil answered, wondering as to the reason he was feeling slightly jealous. "Why?"   
  
"Thank Elbereth!" Daewen exclaimed, tucking a strand of dark hair behind an ear. "We have arrived in time. Has he said when he means to depart?"   
  
"Daewen...." Celebhil stared at her, studying the distraught lines of her face. "How did you know? I mean, why did you think Legolas to be leaving? He is not, by the way."   
  
"He isn't?" She sighed upon his nodded confirmation. "Then why did you tell Talathion he was? Celebhil, if this was your idea of a prank, it has gone horribly awry."   
  
"It was not a—," Celebhil began, frustrated by her tone and feeling his concern for the warder's well being stir again. Taking in a cleansing breath, he started again. "I told Talathion so because I thought it true at the time. I now know otherwise. Forgive me if my honest misinterpretation of Legolas' words caused any trouble." He winced at the defensive tone his voice had taken. "Is Talathion well?" he asked, focusing on imparting his feelings of concern instead.   
  
"I know not," she said, her brow furrowing even more, a sign that her anxiety continued.   
  
"Then what is the problem? What has gone horribly awry?" Celebhil inquired. _Sometimes I do not understand her at all. _Daewen had a tendency to make a big deal out of something that any other would pay little heed. Normally he loved the fussy side of her nature as he took great pleasure in calming her woes, but at times it annoyed him to no end.   
  
"Oh, Celebhil!" she cried, throwing her hands up. "Talathion went to Minas Tirith and informed King Elessar of Legolas' departure," she explained. "And King Elessar has come here, to _Edhilbar_, expecting that to be the case, though I suppose he might be quite relieved to find out otherwise...," she finished, tugging on a braid. Anxious hope colored her voice.   
  
Celebhil's stomach plummeted.   
  
"Ai, Valar."   
  


~~~

  
  
Someone had been here. She was certain it was the same someone who had given her the cloak. The tunic, the trousers—they carried the same wooded scent.   
  
He had left his bow and some arrows behind too. She knew not why. She had no use for them.   
  
The bow—it was strung with the Lady's hair.   
  
It was a fine gift, one that he would not so easily part with. He would come back for it.   
  
And then it would begin.   
  
Nay, it had already begun. As a star follows its set course, he had followed his.   
  
And she would follow hers....   
  


~~~

  
  
Aragorn stood in the doorway to Legolas' personal chamber, debating whether or not he should venture in further and look around more thoroughly. With the careful scrutiny of a Ranger's eyes, he had already determined with just a quick combing glance that nothing had changed since he had last been here. _And that was nearly two years ago_, he pointed out to himself, feeling regretful that their stations in life kept them from seeing each other more often.   
  
Deciding that if Legolas had already departed then he would never know about this invasion of his privacy, Aragorn stepped into the room and walked over to the hearth. Upon the mantle, he counted the nine figures whittled from wood that stood grouped on the left and were similar to his own set which graced a small table back in his private apartment, and there on the right stood a small stone statuette carved by Gimli. Scattered between on the dustless mantle were other tokens—dried flowers of _niphredil_ and _egoloth*_ from the gardens of Arwen and the prince's mother, respectively; a splintered arrow, undoubtedly the same one that had once "accidentally" found itself pinning Gimli by the beard to a tree; a picture of the four hobbits sketched by the trembling hand of an aging Bilbo after he had finally begun to feel his years; and an old pipe of his that was given to the elven prince to be used as a snuffer only. Each piece that Legolas had collected over the years still remained, and this gave Aragorn hope that he had not missed saying farewell to his friend. Each piece also sat in exactly the same place it always had, and this caused him to chuckle, though it surprised him not in the very least.   
  
Having grown up in a Noldorian household, Aragorn knew well the neat and orderly nature of elves, but Legolas took the meaning of those words to new heights. The Sindarin prince was obsessed with tidiness, and everything had its own designated and rightful place. Merry and Pippin had had quite the field day when Aragorn had accidentally let slip this fact one night during the first part of the Quest. For several days following the disclosure, they made it their mission to rearrange items within Legolas' pack whenever the elf scouted ahead. Aragorn had been amazed at how well the hobbits could hold back their snickers as Legolas would search through his pack trying to find whatever item he was looking for or dumping it out entirely and reorganizing it, all the while muttering some choice words in Avari and sending glares toward Gimli, whom he was certain had been the culprit, until finally the elf would storm off in a very unelvish huff, taking the pack with him. Of course, Aragorn was not at all innocent in the game, for it was he who was responsible for signaling when the elf was out of earshot, at which time the camp would fill with hobbit laughter, as well as a chuckle or two from wizard, man, and dwarf. Aragorn had been equally amazed that it took four occurrences until Legolas realized he should just take his pack with him whenever he scouted ahead.   
  
Aragorn was still unsure as to whether Legolas had ever discovered the identities of the true culprits. The cooperative efforts of Gimli and he certainly kept the elf guessing. Legolas visited the king more frequently than Aragorn visited _Edhilbar_, and being royalty and a close friend he was given his own private quarters in which to stay whenever he was in the White City. Gimli had made similar arrangements for Legolas whenever he visited the Glittering Caves, the elf's rooms being along the outer wall of the caverns with several windows open to the outdoors. No one was allowed access to Legolas' rooms, save for the occasional servant who was under strict orders to clean only, never rearrange. This ensured that furniture and other items within the elf's rooms remained exactly how he had left them, how he wanted them. Of course, Aragorn and Gimli both allowed themselves access to the elf's rooms, and neither followed their own orders.   
  
The game had quickly evolved into an art. Only one item was ever moved, and it was always subtle enough so that the elf would have difficulty discerning the change yet noticeable enough so as to drive said elf mad. The first night of Legolas' stays in his friends' cities was spent always with the elf scouring the room; he would pick up several items only to place them back down in exactly the same spot they had been. From the adjoining room, king or dwarf-lord or sometimes both would watch and listen victoriously. There were advantages to being a ruler of a city—rulers could have peeping and listening holes cut through walls.   
  
A hollow pang of sadness coursed through Aragorn as he gently flicked the pipe with a finger. _I suppose he'll never know._  
  
Aragorn squared his shoulders and glanced about the room again. Legolas' cloak from Lorien, his silver-hafted knife, and his bow and quiver were all missing from their place behind the door. The candles distributed throughout had yet to be lit, and the bed did not look to have been slept in for days. Aragorn's scouring grey eyes eventually settled on a wooden chest that was against the wall next to the head of the bed. It stood perhaps five hands tall, and was nearly as wide and as deep. It bore no lock. Crossing over to the chest, Aragorn crouched down beside it and slowly traced the ornate oak leaf pattern.   
  
He knew not why he was tempted to find out what lay within, for surely there was nothing in the chest that would confirm or deny whether or not Legolas had already departed. Furthermore, if he had missed Legolas, it would contain nothing that could alter the course the past few days had taken. Still, Aragorn felt a need to open it, and his curiosity was piqued. It was an odd place to keep a chest. He would have expected it to sit at the foot of one's bed, or perhaps near a writing desk, but Legolas kept this one beside the bed and he wondered why.   
  
An image of the first time he had gotten caught snooping around in the prince's rooms in Mirkwood flashed through his mind, and he was nearly dissuaded from opening the chest. It was how Aragorn had discovered Thranduil's youngest son was just slightly obsessive and took not at all kindly to others disturbing his things. _And you thought Elladan was bad._ He had been met with a look that was both an icy glare and a fiery gaze, which had caused him to sputter out something that may have remotely sounded like an apology. Legolas had ripped the jeweled circlet off the Ranger's head and placed it back in its place on the vanity. Aragorn was still uncertain if Legolas' anger had been ignited due to his teasing of the prince or to his disturbing the elf's things. He had not been anxious to find out, and so never again messed with the prince's belongings nor gave voice to his opinions concerning the gaudy decorations King Thranduil expected his sons to wear.   
  
The game he and Gimli played now with Legolas was merely that—a game, which Legolas understood and to which the elf had resigned himself several years ago. What Aragorn was about to do was outright snooping.   
  
Aragorn shrugged his shoulders. _You were a young Ranger then, and you are King of Gondor and Arnor now. Surely you'll not quail under his gtare this time,_ he told himself, lifting the lid to the chest slowly. Aragorn glimpsed inside and sighed, disappointed to find only a soft woolen blanket dyed a deep blue.   
  
He knew he should close the lid and leave well enough alone, yet he also knew that a chest that size held more than just one blanket. Lifting it up, he found cushioned on top of another identical blanket a portfolio bound with a leather tie. A single green leaf was painted upon the paper bark covering. Aragorn picked it up as gently as he had picked Eldarion up from his crib for the first time, and removed the binding. Opening the portfolio, he discovered that it served as a keeper of Legolas' personal correspondences. On top was the most recent letter he had sent to the prince, and beneath that he saw the flowery script of Arwen, written on the same pale gold parchment, the wax seal bearing the likeness of the White Tree of Gondor carefully broken. Aragorn thumbed through the pages. There were more from Arwen and him, and just as many if not more from Gimli, his writing sharp and jagged. Others there were from the Shire and _Eryn Lasgalen,_ as well as a scant few from Imladris and Edoras. _He's kept every one of them._  
  
Aragorn resisted the urge to read the correspondences, save the ones he and Arwen had sent, as that would have been a total invasion of privacy. Smoothing out the top parchment, he made to replace them in the portfolio when something caught his eye. He shuffled through the letters again, his brow furrowing more deeply as he went along. _There's one, and there's another._ Aragorn had gotten only a quarter of the way through the stack and already had counted several of the silvery grey parchments that bore half a broken seal of a graceful curve. He scrutinized the partial emblem, the deep blue color of the wax seeming to stop his blood cold. He recognized the seal, and the wax, and he found it disconcertingly odd that Legolas should received so many correspondences from Dol Amroth, from Prince Imrahil, Lord of the Swan Knights.   
  
Aragorn carefully laid the first few parchments upon the bed, leaving the most recent correspondence from Imrahil exposed on top of the stack. His eyes traveled slowly over the noble script, his heart beating faster and faster as he skimmed through the words—_sea, ship, sail...._  
  
"Great Valar, Legolas," Aragorn breathed.   
  
"I doubt that even your status as King of the Reunified Lands gives you right to deem me such a being, worthy of it though I may be."   
  
Aragorn rose hurriedly to his feet, grabbing the other parchments from upon the bed and placing them on top of the stack, trying his best to at least fumble gracefully. Legolas crossed from the door to where he stood in a manner of mere seconds and, saying not a word, snatched the papers from Aragorn's hands, returning them quickly yet reverently to the portfolio and then replacing it within the chest in similar manner.   
  
It was clear to Aragorn that Legolas was incensed, though nothing settled itself upon the elf's countenance to give indication of it. Annoyance, anger, amusement, anger again—all seemed to flit across the elf's features in a stream of endless explosions, all precisely contained and controlled.   
  
"Legolas, I beg your forgiveness," Aragorn said, feeling as if he were being consumed by the fires of Mount Doom while at the same time being buried under an avalanche upon Caradhras.   
  
Legolas closed the chest with a loud thud and straightened, towering over Aragorn, even though the man had at least an inch on the elf.   
  
"It is good to see you again, Aragorn," Legolas greeted him, his voice frigid, his gaze aflame. "Come, let us sup," he said, and then started to walk toward the door. He stopped abruptly and strode over to the hearth, tapping the pipe Aragorn had disturbed earlier into its prior position.   
  
Elf and man walked in silence as they made their way down to the forest floor and to the private dining hall. Aragorn struggled to walk beside Legolas, whose strides were long and determined. As they drew closer to the small building, the smell of dinner wafted to him on the air.   
  
"Will others be joining us?" Aragorn asked, gaining the courage to break the weighty silence and hoping he would not be left alone with the enraged elf just yet.   
  
"Many of my people are still out tending the fields. The village is quiet this time of year. Worry not. I have asked Mordil and Daewen to see to the needs of your men. They will be well taken care of and will eat elsewhere," Legolas assured him, though coldly.   
  
"I don't worry," Aragorn replied. "Daewen is very capable, very intelligent."   
  
"Aye, normally she is."   
  
"Legolas, do not blame Daewen for my transgression."   
  
Aragorn barely heard the grunt that came from Legolas in response.   
  
"I take full respons– "  
  
"Celebhil," Legolas interrupted straightforwardly, "upon alerting me to your presence, also alerted me to his overwhelming desire to patrol the western wood, and so he also will not be joining us." The prince stopped his steps and opened the door to the dining hall, indicating with an arm for Aragorn to enter first. "Talathion—, " he stopped and shook his head curtly. "It will just be you and I tonight," he said.   
  
For the briefest moment, Aragorn believed he glimpsed a snarl turning itself up on Legolas' lips as he passed by. Yet in the same moment, there was a sparkle set deep in his blue eyes, as if the elf was taking great pleasure from the king's discomfiture. It took all of Aragorn's effort not to cringe as he walked past the elf and into the room.   
  
Though the dinner that awaited the prince and king was not nearly as extravagant as other elven feasts he had attended in recent years, Aragorn was still impressed with the offerings, especially as his presence had been unexpected and the village was indeed very quiet as Legolas had pointed out. Venison steak, apples baked in cinnamon compote, crusted bread, and a few other dishes all looked and smelled extremely delicious, though Aragorn found he really had no appetite despite the fact that he had not eaten since breakfast that morn. However, the king was rather anxious to have at the carafe of wine that stood in the center of the table.   
  
"Your father's Dorwinion?" Aragorn asked, incredulous, picking up the carafe and sniffing the contents.   
  
"Only the best for King Elessar," Legolas confirmed. His voice held neither cheer nor contempt.   
  
"Lego—"  
  
"Sit," the prince bade, pulling out a chair at the head of the small table.   
  
It never occurred to Aragorn to do anything but obey.   
  
"And eat," Legolas continued, gesturing to the table grandly. He picked up the carafe of wine and filled each of their cups, then took his place across from Aragorn. He sat regally, though rigidly.   
  
Aragorn smiled his thanks and nodded, then took a generous helping of each of the dishes. The impending silence would be easier to endure and not so awkward if he kept his mouth full of food.   
  
Legolas' eyes followed Aragorn's movements as he filled his plate, and then the prince helped himself to a piece of crusted bread, a slice of the roasted venison, and a serving of the apples. Aragorn concentrated greatly on transferring each bite from plate to mouth, chewing the appropriate number of times before swallowing, giving added attention to make sure the food went down the right pipe. Of course, once the food got to his stomach, there was no guarantee it would stay down, so uneasy was he. Only once before had he ever felt this way—when Elrond had spoken to him of his intentions toward Arwen. He had experienced his dinner all over again that night, though it was far from pleasant the second time around. Aragorn was certain he would be having a similar experience this night.   
  
Aragorn swallowed and took another bite of venison, then stole a glance at Legolas.   
  
_Great Valar, he is livid!_  
  
Legolas had yet to take one bite of his food, but his meat was entirely cut into very precise, very small pieces, and the prince was working on cutting them even smaller. Aragorn knew not whether to be awed by the knifework or frightened, and he fought hard not to grimace at each scraping sound of knife against plate. Eventually Legolas no longer could cut his meat any smaller, so he moved on to his bread, tearing it in half, and then in half again. When the bread was sufficiently mutilated, he picked up his fork and started mashing the apples. All this the elf did very grandly and without taking his eyes off Aragorn.   
  
"May I help you?" Legolas demanded finally.   
  
Aragorn swallowed hard. "No, it's just that you've not eaten a thing," he stated, then gulped down the rest of his wine when Legolas hardened his gaze even more. Aragorn poured himself another cup of wine. He was already on his fourth; Legolas had yet to take a sip of his first.   
  
"And you were chewing on the same piece of meat for the past five minutes," the prince observed. Setting his napkin beside his plate, Legolas pushed his chair away from the table and stood in one rigid motion. "I find I have little appetite."   
  
_Little appetite for food, you mean,_ Aragorn clarified silently.   
  
Legolas walked out of the small hall, and Aragorn debated whether he should follow or let the elf be. Any attempt to talk to him at this point would fail horribly. Legolas was naturally reserved, choosing to listen carefully to the assessments of others first and offer his views only once he had garnered all the information he deemed necessary, but when the elf's anger flared, he shut down completely. No words would he hear, nor would he give any. One was left to only guess what exactly his thoughts were. That is, unless the elf was entirely enraged. Then he would let fly every thought that came to mind, without censure. Elladan and Elrohir termed it "Thranduil mode." Over the years, Aragorn had made it a practice to retreat without dishonor whenever Legolas entered into such a volatile state.   
  
_But you are the one who ignited the fire, and it is only right that you should be the one to try and put it out._  
  
Heaving a sigh, Aragorn pushed his chair back from the table and rose to follow Legolas.   
  
Once outside, Aragorn found no sign of the elf. He felt his hesitance to face his friend dissipate a little, for Legolas' quick disappearance gave evidence that the prince was just slightly angry and wanted to be left alone. He had not entered "Thranduil mode"...yet.   
  
Aragorn glanced up into the trees, knowing that it was a futile quest in which he was engaging. If an elf did not want to be found, he would certainly not be found, no matter if the searcher was another elf or a former Ranger who had been taught by elves. Regardless, Aragorn felt it necessary to at least make the attempt. His eyes raked through the trees, watching for a flicker of movement upon their boughs, searching for an odd twist upon a branch, but Legolas was nowhere to be seen.   
  
The evening sky was darkening and the waning moon afforded him only a little light by which to search. Aragorn soon found himself walking back towards the aged oak in which Legolas had made his dwelling. It went against his better judgment, as that would be the last place Legolas would seek escape. Yet Aragorn thought briefly that perhaps he may have returned to his chambers, knowing that would be the last place the former Ranger would come looking for him. Besides, the king's own guest chambers were located near to the prince's, and Aragorn felt wearier as night fell. The urge to talk to Legolas and apologize for his wrongdoing was quickly being replaced by an urge to lay his head upon a soft pillow and escape the worries and fears of the past two days. He knew that no such escape would come this night and that he would be lucky to get even a couple hours sleep. He knew his mind would be restless, reliving all he had seen and done this day, racking itself for the words he would say to Legolas in apology for all that had passed and for when it came time to bid a final farewell to his friend.   
  
Aragorn stopped his steps abruptly, surprised. Upon the balcony of his dwelling, both hands resting upon the balustrade and gazing up towards the first stars glimmering in the pale night sky, stood Legolas. His eyes were closed, his intent of listening to a song muted to Man's ears written on his serene face.   
  
Aragorn was loath to interrupt, to stir Legolas from the peaceful state, even though he still desired greatly to speak with his friend. He was not an elf and thus he would never comprehend the sea-longing, but Aragorn was aware...Aragorn knew Legolas was seldom able to converse with the trees so deeply since its stirring. He would not take this moment from Legolas. He would not tear the elf away for an unpleasant conversation. He would wait for the new day to say his own farewell to Legolas.   
  


*****

  
  
**A/N:**  
  
*_egoloth_ – this flower is a creation of mine for yet another one-chapter story I am working on. The story is currently stalled, but I do mean to come back to it, and mentioning it here will hopefully give me the added push to do so. I won't translate the meaning of _egoloth_ here, but I'm sure you can figure it out if you consult any of the Sindarin dictionaries out there.   
  
  
  
Speaking of other stories, I wrote a one-chapter ficlet, movie-verse, that explores Lego's hissy fit from TTT. (Wasn't that a nice segue into a shameless plug?) It can be found here: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1217253. If you haven't checked it out already, please do.   
  
  
  
And now for the moment YellowSun has been waiting for—  
  


**Response to Reviewers**

  
  
TreeHugger – Sorry I didn't include the warder in this chapter, mellon-nin. I know you wanted to see him again, but he is not yet recovered from your date the other week. What _did_ you do to him? It had to be more than just dinner. LOL. Legolas knows how to play his game well. As you can see, Celebhil still doesn't know what to believe. :) Sorry about the angst I inserted about Legolas' mother and sister; however, it will get worse. But I do find I need some lighter moments, and that's what Mordil is all about. Teehee. I love my young elves. Yes, elves are strange and mysterious creatures, and just when you think you have them figured out, you find you really don't. I love that about them. Aragorn has found Legolas, but I don't think that's helped his state of mind any bit. Hehe. I love torturing Aragorn—Poor Aragorn! (c. PP)   
  
Stimpy – Sorry, I'm a really slow updater. I try, but it just takes time. I'm glad you're reading along anyway at my slow pace. And about Celebhil—hmmmm, we'll see.   
  
VladimirsAngel – It seems only natural that Legolas plays Thranduil when he finds himself with the need to exert his lordliness. Such is not in his nature so he must imitate his Ada. LOL at the comment about Haldir needing a whole new forest. I do so love him, but he is arrogant. ROTFL – I constantly find myself typing Legolas-speak, and not on purpose either. Make sure you keep those cruise brochures away from your Legolas. And just to be safe, keep those credit cards hidden as well. You might find a charge from Carnival Cruises on your next monthly statement. I _would_ always let Legolas have his way if it were truly Legolas. Alas, it's not Legolas but his evil twin Legoals, who is the muse on this story. Of course, you might reconsider once you see what Elladan and Elrohir are inspiring. I hope you'll find out soon, if you're interested.   
  
opaque – LOL I have had those last night reading frenzies once or twice in my fan fiction lifetime as well. Okay, maybe more like hundreds of times. I'm honored that it was my story that keep you up late. Oops. I see my author's bio is a bit confusing. I'm really 24, not 15. I just feel like 15 sometimes because I've got this puppy love fascination with Legolas. ::blushes:: Thanks for the review!   
  
Melian – Legolas squirming. MMMmmm...that's a bit yummy. Legolas squirming because of Celebhil—even yummier. But that's another story. You've totally hit the nail on the head—we girls do love the mysterious types. I think that's why there are so many of us out there writing fan fiction about our favorite elf. I'm glad you like Daewen, especially as we will be seeing just a tab bit more of her. ::snicker:: I do enjoy writing the elves; it's quite a challenge. They've got this great mystique about them, and balance mirth and staidness all in the same moment. I love that about them, the younger elves especially. The older ones, like Talathion, have lost their fun side. :( No, you did not miss it in the beta. I decided to go for a bit more angst. There is a story to it. You will hear it as soon as this one is done. Well, we've gotten just half of Legolas' reaction to Aragorn's journey. The other half will most likely be in the next chapter. Legolas still won't be finished—you're right. Talathion's got his coming too.   
  
Earl Grey – Eep. This story has been going on for quite a few months, hasn't it? And I think we're only halfway there. I so wish I could get this out faster! I've had most of it planned out since the beginning and the ending has been sitting in my head for a couple of months. Alas, RL. ::sigh:: I'm glad you like the detail—sometimes I think I might bog you down in it, but I can see each scene perfectly in my head and I really want to convey those images to the readers. Alas, if I were a movie director and New Line Cinema would fund me and Orli and Viggo and a cast of other actors and actresses to make this a movie instead, you would get it all at once, complete with fish scene. Hey, I can dream. I'll let you know where and when you can find the other story, whenever it gets finished. ::PP yells at Elladan and Elrohir to pay her a little attention:: Thanks for reading and reviewing!   
  
bryn – How exciting to see you checking this story out! Your review hit on a few things that others haven't, specifically the woman. There is a reason that her sections are written very simplistically, but it is not due to any trauma she has experienced. Keep thinking about her. I'm getting ready to reveal more about who she is, but it's still a couple of chapters away. LOL I'll tell Talathion to look for the leash next time he's in Minas Tirith. MMMmmm, Legolas on a leash....Oh, sorry! Got lost in a vision. I totally agree that Romance and Angst are hard genres to write in, since I really want to keep the characters true to themselves. But it is how I love my romances, with plenty of angst, so I will continue to plod ahead and do my best. Thanks for the great review!   
  
Teanna – And you're checking this out too! I'm so honored that more and more of my favorite authors are reading this little story of mine. LOL – Elves in baseball hats and pickup trucks. That is a good image. I do love Legolas in a doorag. Heh – I don't know much about horses at all. al can tell you that story. I just try to find stuff on the net. Good to hear you don't see a Mary Sue, though you might soon (Eep!). You're the first to have mentioned the hawk; you'll see more of it. Interesting about the meaning of a dropped feather. And LOL about the fish. Fortunately for Legolas, I'm—I mean—IT was a rather small fish. :) Thanks for all the reviews and helpful comments!   
  
Nebride – Yay! You're back! You've joined the rest of the crew here that enjoys Celebhil and his antics. I like him too. He's fun to write, but I do have to tame him sometimes. Sorry I haven't revealed much more about the woman. I'm getting there though—just a few more chapters. Heehee – Legolas in the stream is my favorite scene so far. Totally written on a whim, but I love it. So did Legolas, I think. :) Thanks for reviewing!   
  
Ithilien – For me, I envision Legolas walking on an edge, very unstable when the sea-longing is bad. That's why everyone is assuming the worst. They're beginning to find out their assumptions were wrong, one-by-one. Always bad to assume. I'm sure you know the saying. It didn't bother Legolas when it was only Celebhil, but he is definitely more than a little miffed that Celebhil's mistake went as far as to bring the King to Ithilien. Be prepared for fireworks courtesy of Legolas next chapter. I'm glad you like Daewen. There will probably be more of her, if all goes according to plan. One day, I'll give you the backstory for Legolas and Celebhil. Every day, more and more of it comes to me. And I'm still working on the other story. Elladan and Elrohir are two busy entertaining themselves and not me. Eventually, you get to read it and I'm certain you'll enjoy it.   
  
YellowSun – Nasty emails? They weren't that nasty, were they? I know how you can rid yourself of them – sign-in when you review and then click the author alert box. :P They fire some of the time. LOL – I put those in on purpose. I like it. You don't? Well, fine. One Avalanche of Advil coming your way. ::PP resists urge to point out the alliteration of WW::   
  
al and Legolas – Between mentions of leashes and ropes, I'm having great visions. LOL – no, I don't think a shoe string will do, not for what I have in mind anyway. Heehee – I think Mordil enjoyed Aragorn's move too, after the fact. Celebhil does get around—he's been to Eryn Lasgalen and Ithilien of course, and to Rivendell and Minas Tirith, and probably Esgaroth a couple of times...Oh. You meant a different kind of getting around. Well, maybe. She does like to hang with the boys. Dangit! ::PP scoops another plot bunny and puts it in a cage for later:: LOL – it's not cruel. It's great fun to imagine the twins and Legolas ganging up on the smelly man. Hey Marty—erm, I mean—Legolas! I'm trying to figure out how you'll get your bow back. I think I've got it figured out. You'll have to wait at least another chapter though. Can you make do without it until then? Patience, melethron. Somebody will eventually kiss you. Actually, Celebhil gave you a nice sweet peck on the cheek. Was that good? LOL. He wanted to do more, but I slapped him on the—ANYway, you'll get kissed, and more. Just wait. Until then, ***POP***  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Revelations

**Disclaimer:** All characters and places belong to or inspired by Tolkien.  
  
Much gratitude goes to al for beta'ing, both this chapter and the last. Thanks for putting up with my ever-changing mind, nin mellon! ::hugs::   
  
Forgive the long time between postings. Legoals is most unelven; he took off for warmer weather when the bitter cold really set in here. Damn elf didn't even bring me back a souvenir from Jamaica as an apology. Anyway, on with the long overdue chapter. Hope it doesn't disappoint.  
  
  
  
  


**_El Gwedh Enni_  
(A) Star is Binding Me  
  
Chapter X – Revelations**

  
  
It was morning. Pale sky was washed in warm blue, tinted only by the soft yellow light of the morning star, distant and yet half-hidden in the eastern horizon. Birdsong lifted on the air from tree bough, the warbling melodies continually greeting the dawning day. The grass was soft and cool, as morning dew clung to blades of healthy green that glistened in the warmth of the sunlight. Multihued flowers raised vibrant heads and verdant arms in preparation to catch life-giving sunbeams, their invigorating scents infused with the fresh spring air to impart a sense of lazy peace.   
  
Indeed, it was a glorious morning, one that whispered promises that a glorious day was to come—perfect for sitting upon a riverbank and being spectator to the slow progression of the sun in the clear sky, and allowing the harmonious song of trees and birds and murmuring stream to caress one's ears until one fell into a languid state.   
  
The glory of the morning, however, only served to sour his mood even more. Everything about it seemed to mock him—the promised brightness of a rising sun, the persistent cheer of babbling brook, the inspirited ovation of daisies dancing in the breeze.   
  
_Those two bickering birds,_ he muttered inwardly, glowering at the creatures, willing them to cease their unendless and annoying prater in whatever way was quickest, even if that way involved the swift means of death by spontaneous combustion due to being the unfortunate recipient of an elven glare.   
  
The two birds—mockingbirds coincidently enough, which only added to his being convinced that the Valar were on a mission to irritate him to the fullest degree this morning—quickly took flight when their own annoyance with the dour elf grew to be too much. He wished he could do the same, wished he could escape like that. Their movements were quick and effortless, and they lifted lightly from branch onto breeze.   
  
Indeed he envied them, for he felt heavy and weighted down like a lumbering dwarf in bulky chainmail. Stuck like a fly in honey. All his senses, all his perceptions, seemed dulled and delayed, and he felt as if any action he might make would come much too late and be far too little to delay this departure and stop this progression of events.   
  
He felt trapped, trapped inside a tenebrous tunnel of emotions—anger, regret, pain, and sorrow, and worst of all, for he knew not from where it stemmed, desperation.   
  


~~~

  
  
Ceasing his slow ministrations with a currycomb upon the barrel of his horse, Legolas rested one arm upon the proud steed's back and laid his head down upon it with a heavy sigh.   
  
"_We_ understand each other, my friend."   
  
The whispered words were barely audible to his ears, but Aragorn still heard the slight note of plea in his voice. It was almost as if he were looking for confirmation, or needing confirmation. Regret once again tugged hard upon his heart. Friends such as they were not supposed to lead each down troubled roads. Friends such as they were not supposed to tread on each other's trust. Friends such as they.... A wince, and the thought was cast away upon the morning breeze.   
  
"Legolas?"   
  
Arod shifted his weight uneasily and Legolas stirred, reposturing himself and returning quickly to his task. Aragorn stepped out of the shadows of the stable entry and into the brightness of the sunlight streaming down into the small pasture. A long and uncomfortable silence loomed as he walked over to Legolas. Making his steps as slow as he could without his delay becoming too conspicuous, he racked his brain in search of the right words, frustrated to the point that he wanted to shout out words incomprehensible to even him.   
  
All throughout the night he had tossed and turned, mulling over what he might say to Legolas, how he would apologize, how he would bid farewell. The words had come then—fast and plentiful—and everything that had presented itself seemed the perfect thing to say—straightforward, to the point, heartfelt, and honest. He had formed his apology and shaped his farewell with all the appropriate words; they had been neither excessively flowery nor coldly dispassionate. During the ubiquitous silence of the night he had practiced over and over within his torrent-filled mind how he would deliver those words, focusing on relaying the root sentiment behind them and conveying how much the friendship they had shared over the years really meant to him, and expressing his true hope that Legolas would find contentment across the Sea.  
  
Yet all words escaped him now, in this moment when he needed them most, fleeing from him as a deer would flee from a greedy band of careless hunters. Any phrase of careful greeting or humble apology that came to him now was fleeting like a fluff of tree cotton floating on the air just beyond the grasp of a young child, and they fell far short of expressing his deep sorrow and guilt. Balling his hands into tight fists at his sides, Aragorn silently cursed himself that he should have lost so much sleep last night and now had nothing to show for it this morning.   
  
"Aragorn," Legolas said, nodding brusquely to him in acknowledgement of his presence. The elf wore a mask of stolidity, but it was poorly crafted, as it did nothing to hide the remnants of personal hurt. "Was your lodging unsatisfactory, the bed uncomfortable? You look terrible." Elven eyes remained fixed on his horse.   
  
Aragorn allowed a tense chuckle to escape. "I suppose I'll always look terrible standing next to your fairness, Elf."   
  
No response came to his nervous remark—no twitching of the corners of the mouth, no gleam in the eyes, no quirk of an eyebrow. Nothing.   
  
"Nay, I slept not well last night, Legolas, but it is not the bed to blame. The accommodations were beyond satisfactory. Perfectly pleasant as elvish accommodations always are." Aragorn sucked in a deep breath. "I would say sleep has eluded you of late as well, friend," he ventured in almost a whisper. He paused to consider his course. A strong desire pulled within him to avoid discussing the real reasons for their lack of sleep, but deep down he knew that he could not put it off forever, that he would eventually have to make amends for his actions of yesterday, and the sooner, the better. "I suspect we both know why we do not sleep well."   
  
"I am of the Eldar, Aragorn. I need not this beauty sleep that Men so obviously require." The words were said with no hint of mirth lilting on the crisp voice, no ripples breaking upon the surface of the dark blue, almost black, pools.   
  
"Nay, it would do little good," Aragorn jested in another effort to ease the tension between the two of them. Again, he met with failure. _The elf does not want to talk about it. Leave it be._ But the King in him, the Ranger in him, the human child raised in the noble house of Elrond in him could not—_would not_—let it be. It was not how he was brought up.   
  
Ever during his childhood his twin brothers had delighted in leading him astray, and more often than not Aragorn found himself in trouble. He had learned that it was far better to face the consequences of his actions rather than ignore them or run from them, allowing them to amass and become more terrible than they would have been had he admitted whatever wrongdoing he had committed that week in the first place. Elrond was much less stern and much more understanding when it was the perpetrator who informed him of ill happenings within his household rather than the Lord of Imladris stumbling upon the evidence of such himself, or being informed of it by the lords Glorfindel or Erestor.   
  
"Legolas, we cannot let what happened yesterday lie dormant. I would not see you depart—"  
  
"Aragorn—"  
  
Aragorn held up a hand, the practiced motion of a king beseeching his royal subjects to remain silent. "Please, Legolas. I cannot let you leave without an apology. My actions of yesterday were inane and senseless. I know not what came over me."   
  
"Nor do I," Legolas said. His voice was frosted with the biting chill of a dead winter's day.   
  
Aragorn shook his head, his transgression replaying all over again in his head. Had he been thinking properly—nay, thinking at all—he would have known Legolas had not yet departed. The clues had all been there. Nothing of true meaning, besides his bow, had been missing from his chambers, and that meant nothing as Legolas seldom went anywhere without the gift of Galadriel or his silver-hafted knife. "I wasn't thinking, my friend," Aragorn confessed. "I should have realized you had not left. It is clear to me now that you would not have without taking with you the gifts and mementos you have garnered over the years that you so obviously hold dear. Truly I am sorry, Legolas, for my intrusion. It was wrong and dishonorable of me."   
  
Ice broke then, and the fires of Mount Doom erupted.   
  
"And _still_ you do not think, Aragorn!" Legolas seemed to roar and hiss at the same time. His face contorted in rage. "Do you not think I hold friendships dearer than the mere trinkets that represent them?! Do you not think that I will bid farewell to those friends when the time does come for me to sail the Sea?! Do you think I would be so cold and so heartless?! Do you think me so weak as to succumb so easily?"   
  
Aragorn stared wide-eyed and speechless at the elf. Never had he heard so many furied words fly out of Legolas' mouth at once. He was beyond "Thranduil Mode," and Aragorn wondered momentarily if this was perhaps the fabled "Oropherian Mode." Regardless, the words struck Aragorn's heart, their sharpness and pointed truth wounding him, and he realized with a great sinking feeling that he had wronged his friend in a way far graver—far, far worse—than just a simple invasion of the elf's privacy.   
  
"Legolas—"  
  
"Leave it, Aragorn," Legolas cut him short, turning briskly to walk away.   
  
"Nay, Legolas," Aragorn said, grabbing his arm. The Sindar prince whipped around, first staring hard at Aragorn's hand, then fixing the king with a most elven glare that brought with it the command 'release me or else,' but Aragorn refused to obey. "Nay, Legolas," he repeated, determination steeling his voice. "Not until we settle this matter."   
  
Aragorn had thought it not to be possible, but the weight and fire of Legolas' glare increased tenfold. "And what _is_ this matter, Aragorn? Truly, do you know?" he demanded, his voice taking on an almost mocking tone.   
  
"Legolas...." Aragorn hesitated. His own voice was harsh, and he regretted the aggravation stirring within him that Legolas' tone had managed to incite. He started again, softening his speech. "Legolas, I am aware now that it is not so much anger that fuels your words, but hurt. I should not have doubted you."   
  
For a long moment, Legolas made no reply. Instead he returned his attention to Arod, stroking his muzzle with a slender hand, his eyes gazing deeply into the horse's eyes. If not for the pervading tension, Aragorn would have considered it a most serene moment.   
  
"And yet you were not alone in your doubt," he whispered. The statement was made as almost an admission of something, but of what Aragorn knew not.   
  
"Legolas?"   
  
The elf shook his head, then spoke brief and imperceptible words to Arod who trotted reluctantly off across the pasture to join Roheryn where she grazed idly.   
  
"Legolas," Aragorn tried again, his tone passably commanding the elf to share.   
  
"Nay," Legolas said, shaking his head once more, though not with the forlornness with which he had done so before, but rather more stubbornly, more resolutely. The son of Thranduil **would not **discuss the matter.   
  
Aragorn ignored him.   
  
"Please, Legolas," he coaxed, gently squeezing the elf's arm. "Please."   
  
Legolas dropped his gaze to the ground and his eyes closed as he inhaled a slow, deep breath, as if he were preparing himself to make a confession. Silence stretched out between them, long like a midsummer's day. Then slowly his head rose, and his eyes opened, heavy with unspent tears.   
  
"You were not alone in your doubt," he said again, his voice soft and strained, a hint of a waver.   
  
"I do not understand—"  
  
"_You_ were not alone in your doubt. Celebhil, Daewen, even Talathion.... You were not alone in your doubt." His head bowed and shook again as he repeated the phrase for the fourth time; the forlornness had returned.   
  
"Legolas, you—"  
  
His head came up, and his eyes stared hard into Aragorn's. "I know what you will say, Aragorn. You would tell me I am not at fault, that I am mistaken, but I am not and I _am_ to blame." His tone would brook no argument.   
  
"Legolas—"  
  
"Nay, Aragorn. I am." Legolas had firm control of their conversation now, and it was clear from his voice and his gaze that he was not soon relinquishing it. "Had it stopped at Celebhil I would have found it amusing, for ever is he mucking things up, but for you, and Daewen, and Talathion.... And I wonder now if Gimli would have come barreling upon horse, had word reached him." A pause; a slight shake of the head. "Nay, for all of you to think me leaving—to think me to slink away, wordless and wistful—it speaks of me, of my mood, of the way that I must have been treating you over the years. You expected this of me."   
  
"Nay, Legolas," Aragorn said matter-of-factly, finally given the chance to speak. "Gimli would not have come." Legolas' eyes narrowed at his statement. "Gimli has more sense than that. Gimli does not doubt true friendship."   
  
The words were authentic and honest, and were meant to soothe. The softening of the lines upon Legolas' face gave evidence that they had accomplished their purpose, but only to a degree.   
  
"Besides, I think not that seeing you off would be enough to get that dwarf on a horse again, not after what happened last time from what I have heard," Aragorn jested delicately.   
  
A faint smile turned itself upon the corners of Legolas' lips, the sight of which warmed Aragorn's heart.   
  
"I warned him not to use his heels, and had he seated himself properly he would not have bruised so badly," Legolas replied, an allusion of mirth surfacing upon the ocean-hued pools of his eyes, but still they had yet to return to their more brilliant shade of blue.   
  
"Never will he learn, for he is as stubborn as you," Aragorn said, feeling a tinge of relief that he and Legolas seemed to be on their way to closing the rift between them. Still, the heart of the matter went unresolved and Aragorn felt the need to make further amends pressing down on him, for Legolas' sake as well as his own. He would not let his friend hold the guilt of the previous days' events, though he knew the elf would put up a valiant fight to retain it. The Lord of _Edhilbar_ had as many issues with responsibility as the King of Gondor and Arnor.   
  
"Legolas." Aragorn lingered over his name and his tone disclosed that he was returning to a more serious matter.   
  
Legolas flinched and looked away, crossing his arms, a clear indication that the son of Thranduil would hear no more.   
  
"Legolas, I know you wish to abandon the matter and I will let it rest, but I want you to hear this first. To understand—nay, to really _know_ this."   
  
Despite the authority ringing clear in his voice, Legolas would still not meet Aragorn's eyes.   
  
"Legolas, look at me when I say this, for I would have you see the genuineness of my words."   
  
The elf turned his head to look upon the king, but still there was aloofness in his gaze and in his stance.   
  
Aragorn took what he could get. "Though I can only speak for myself, I am certain you would find Celebhil and Daewen and even Talathion to be in agreement with this assessment." He paused, wanting to give more weight to his next words. "Our judgment of your intent was clouded, Legolas. It had nothing to do with you, with how you have shared yourself—your friendship—over these past years. For myself, I can say judgment was clouded by regret, and selfish wishes. I cannot deny that deep down I want you to stay, my friend." Legolas made to reply, but Aragorn quelled him with a raised hand and a shake of his head. "But I know you cannot. I know the Sea calls constantly to you. Still, I cannot deny my hope that you would remain yet a little longer, until _Edhilbar_ was more firmly established, until the land of Ithilien grew green with content, until my time on this earth has passed." The last words were whispered—barely a breeze on the air—and immediately Aragorn regretted giving breath to them; but it was too late, for elven ears had heard them and had heard them clearly.   
  
A look of divine glory seemed at first to settle itself in Legolas' eyes and upon his face, but quickly it flickered away and was replaced by an amused light gleaming within the sparkling blue orbs and a smile playing along his lips.   
  
"Aragorn, I do not leave yet," he told him, his voice unwavering.   
  
"Legolas, I do not ask you to stay. I know—"  
  
"Aragorn," he interrupted, bringing both hands up to grasp the sides of Aragorn's shoulders firmly. It was an odd sort of feeling for Aragorn and it quite literally threw him off balance, for rarely did Legolas initiate such contact. "I **do not** leave yet."   
  
It was Aragorn's turn to protest, but Legolas quashed all his attempts with his indomitable gaze.   
  
"I stay not for you, Aragorn, nor for Gimli. I stay not for anyone but myself, and for myself I would stay for the length of your days. I know not if I will be able, but if it is in me then I will."   
  
So touched was he by the words, and still not understanding entirely why Legolas had said that he was not leaving yet, that Aragorn stood speechless for several long moments. Overwhelming pride in his friend welled up inside him, yet at the same time he found himself more than a little confused by Legolas' revelation. Here the elf had said he would try to hold off answering the Call of the Sea and yet Aragorn had come to _Edhilbar_ with the purpose of bidding farewell to his friend whom he had been told would be departing. _And did not the letters from Imrahil allude to his leaving soon?_ He wondered if this was the elvish flare for contradicting oneself and yet not really contradicting oneself that was rearing its ugly head. He wondered if this were some elaborate hoax that the elf had generated, but the vividness of Legolas' anger and hurt from only a few moments ago quickly convinced him it was not. Finally, when he felt his brow could knit no further together, and this he believed the elf did deliberately wait for, Legolas bestowed upon him an explanation.   
  
"'Twas Celebhil's doing, though not on purpose, and I suppose I am not entirely guiltless in the matter, for it was my words which were vague that led him astray," Legolas elucidated. "I have made no decision to leave, Aragorn. I am sorry that you came here expecting otherwise."   
  
"Nay, Legolas," Aragorn objected, though unable to restrain a low chuckle brought about by the irony of the elf's apology. Had the apology been made entirely in jest, Aragorn would have played along, as he was accustomed to the notoriously flitting moods of elves. However, Legolas had been completely sincere and Aragorn suspected he felt some guilt for inconveniencing his friend, though no such inconvenience existed. "I am more than relieved to find that you do not depart. You need not apologize. It is I who should apologize."   
  
"You have already, Aragorn, and I accept your apology. Now I would have us forget about all this so that we may move on with the day and enjoy each other's company, for soon will you not need to return to your city? Your people expect their king to be present for the celebration of the New Year, do they not?" Legolas asked, leading the way back towards the stable.   
  
"They do, but Faramir is there and he and Arwen oversee the preparations," Aragorn replied. "I will not have to return until the day after next."   
  
"That is good," was all Legolas said.   
  
Returning to the stable, Legolas began to tidy Arod's stall aided in part by Aragorn. Silence again fell between them, but this time it was comfortable silence, the kind in which only good friends on good terms could share. Indeed, Aragorn treasured moments such as these, for it was at such times that he felt closest to Legolas. Words needed not be spoken because it seemed they knew what the other would say. Legolas, he was certain, would comment on the beauty of the day, despite the fact that he was currently holding a shovel-full of manure, or on the merry melody being sung by a pair of birds, perhaps even joining his voice to the song. Aragorn, on the other hand, would have commented on how impressed he was with the elven colony and then inquired further about how their work progressed in Ithilien. Legolas no doubt was already aware of Aragorn's gratitude to the elves so there was no need to voice his appreciation; and in answer to his question about their task of restoring Ithilien, the elf would most likely only say, "It progresses well," and the king would be forced into playing a game of "Quest for Answers" in order to get the information he wanted. It was not that Legolas would want not to share with Aragorn the progress of his people's work; in reality, Aragorn knew Legolas to be quite proud of all that they had accomplished thus far. The youngest son of Thranduil simply took much pleasure in being difficult. It was a trait he had inherited from his father.   
  
_Thankfully he inherited not his father's proclivity for holding grudges, nor for cruel and unusual punishments when one does wrong by him,_ Aragorn thought, realizing all of a sudden how readily Legolas had forgiven him for invading his chambers and reading through some of his personal correspondences. Indeed, it seemed not to bother the elf at all, and Legolas appeared to have forgotten the incident had ever occurred. Had it been Thranduil's chambers in which he were snooping, Aragorn was certain the people of Minis Tirith would be seeing their king no time soon as he would surely be detained in one of the Woodland King's wine cellars and forced to listen to several renditions of "The Barrel Song" over and over. _Either that, or the Good and Wise King* might possibly find it within him to release me, were he in a particularly sporting mood, though no doubt I would be missing a few digits,_ Aragorn gulped mentally.   
  
Just then, Aragorn noticed Legolas had finished his tidying, apparently satisfied with their work, and was gifting him with an odd sort of look. The elf chimed a laugh that was long and light.   
  
"What?" Aragorn asked, oblivious to what had sparked the elf's amusement.   
  
"You looked both positively horrified and overwhelmingly relieved for a brief moment there, Lord King," Legolas said, his voice lilting still with his merriment. "I've never seen you look so."   
  
"Oh," Aragorn replied, unaware that he had allowed his musings to show on his face. "'Twas nothing," he said unconcerned, in an attempt to dodge.   
  
"Ai," Legolas laughed. "You'll not get off that easily, Aragorn. I remember now that you've possessed that look once before, when first you visited my father's realm, bringing the creature Gollum along."   
  
Aragorn remembered well how hesitant he had been to meet Thranduil and then ask of the king that his people keep Gollum, who at the time had been most wretched and vile.   
  
"Nay, Aragorn, you _dreaded_ it," Legolas said, grinning a grin that scraped against Aragon's nerves. Rangers dreaded nothing, or were supposed to anyway.   
  
"You were thinking how lucky you are that I am not my father."   
  
Aragorn failed in stifling a laugh at Legolas' observation. It was uncanny how well the elf could read him at times.   
  
"Something like that, yes," Aragorn confirmed. He chose his words carefully, for he wished not to rehash their earlier words to each other, yet still he felt like he owed Legolas something more for invading the elf's privacy.   
  
"You believe me to have been too lenient," Legolas said, and again Aragorn was amazed at the elf's seeming clairvoyance. "Thranduil would have strung you up by your heels for your trespass," he continued, being just vague enough, Aragorn noted, to ensure his banter did not stray into matters still tender. "I would emulate him, if you wish me to."   
  
"Nay, Legolas, that is alright. Do not trouble yourself."   
  
"You are certain?" he asked. Aragorn smiled and nodded his head, almost sketching a bow. Legolas harrumphed disappointedly. "I will save the string for Talathion then."   
  
It came as a jest, though Aragorn could tell there was something more smoldering beneath it, for the mirth that had been dancing in Legolas' eyes halted suddenly and the blue orbs seemed to flash darkly. It was obvious Legolas was extremely angry with Talathion, and he had good reason to be. Aragorn feared for the warder, but in truth he felt deep sorrow and sympathy for Talathion more than anything else, for he had witnessed the pain and desperation the warder so clearly experienced because of Legolas' seeming departure. He regretted having stirred these emotions within the elf, and this dampened his mood considerably.   
  
"Legolas, be not harsh or hasty when you speak with him about...about the misunderstanding that has occurred. He cares for you deeply. He acts only out of love for you."   
  
"Talathion is _my_ concern, Aragorn, not yours," Legolas said, highly affronted.   
  
"Yes, Legolas, I am well aware," Aragorn said, placating yet wanting still to impart his worry for the warder. "I only ask that you try to understand him, and the reasons for his actions. It is clear he suffers still from the loss of his wife and son, and will be greatly pained by your departure, _whenever_ that will be."   
  
Eyes flashed again, a warning that a storm was beginning to brew. "Aragorn, abandon this," Legolas warned. "It is my concern, and I will deal with him as I see fit."   
  
"Fine," Aragorn conceded, not wanting to go two rounds with the elf in one day. He didn't think he would survive. "How can I argue with you and win when you sound most positively like Thranduil?"   
  
It was clear Legolas recognized Aragorn's attempt at humor as a tactic, but he grinned all the same and the storm seemed to blow itself out of his eyes.   
  
"Yes, there is that," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. One imperial eyebrow arched up. "We've yet to decide upon the recompense for the earlier misdeeds of a certain Ranger with quite the penchant for snooping."   
  
Aragorn knew the elf to be jesting, yet at the same time he was being quite serious. "I am sorry, Legolas, and I would make it up to you. You need only tell me how," he apologized again for good measure. _No honey and spiders, no honey and spiders,_ Aragorn pleaded mentally.  
  
"I would seek your aid, and then perhaps your counsel," Legolas said simply.   
  
The request, for that was what it was, took Aragorn completely by surprise, and he shook his head to make sure he heard correctly.  
  
"My aid?" he inquired.  
  
"Yes, your aid in tracking, and based upon what we find, your counsel," Legolas explained. "You see, we found this woman...," the elf began.  
  
"A woman?" _Ai, Valar. What has he done now?_  
  
  
  
  


*****

  
  
*"The Good and Wise King" is TreeHugger's. Well, no; I should clarify that. Thranduil is _not_ TreeHugger's. Thranduil belongs to nobody but himself. The aforementioned _phrase_ is TreeHugger's. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed it again, nin mellon!  
  
  
_From PP: Heh. Shameless plug time again. Check out my bio on the profile page for it._  
  
  


**Response to Reviewers**

  
  
Amber a.k.a. Stimpy – I like Legolas angry too. Quite the turn-on. He is indeed a whole person—er, elf—with complex emotions. He feels them all. And he ain't done yet. I'm glad you still love Celebhil. He's off patrolling the western woods for a while but he'll be back in this story. Thanks for reviewing!  
  
TreeHugger – Celebhil and Legolas did have an interesting childhood; their story is ever on my mind and I will tell it one of these days, but I want to finish this one first. Who know it would grow to be this long? I certainly didn't. Originally I had thought it would be around 12 chapters. That ain't going to happen. I'm not even going to try and give an estimate on how many are left, even though I know where it's going. As you can probably see, the mystery lady will finally begin to come into this story more. I might keep you in the dark for a couple of more chapters, but you should eventually find out who she is and why she is here. Heh. Yup, Legolas is a neat freak, though I've heard not so when he gets into a lingerie drawer. I guess he gets a little too excited and forgets himself. Grrrrr, TreeHugger. You just keep wanting more and more one-chapter stories. Stop feeding my bunnies! I'm running out of cages! LOL – "Mad Elf." ::giggle:: I like that. Thanks for your review, Tree!   
  
VladimirsAngel – LOL. _You_ want a back-story too about Legolas' mementos. Hmmmm, maybe.... I had no plans to fill in those details, figuring the readers might have fun filling them in themselves, but we willl see. Of course Aragorn was bound to be caught. No fun would be had if he hadn't been. I'm glad to hear I pulled off Mad Elf (c. TreeHugger) well. Legolas is not done yet. There's Talathion still.... Thanks for the review! Hope your Legolas didn't put you too badly into debt. LOL Legolas has a bad speeding habits, doesn't he—cruises, theater candy....   
  
Ana – A new face! Welcome, Welcome! I know you're confused; you're meant to be and I assure you that you are not alone. In fact, the confusion will become even greater I fear before this is through. It's how I like to write; I like to watch the readers flounder for answers while I sit there dropping very vague hints and say, "It will come. It will come. Be patient." ::grin:: Anyway, your first question was answered. Legolas is not leaving. It was all just a misinterpretation of words that got out of hand. Will he be leaving in the future? Yes. I'm not sure we're really any closer to finding out what's going on, but we are quickly getting there now. When I first conceived of this bunny, I didn't think any other character—canon or original—would really come into play in the story, but they have demanded attention and I like that it has evolved beyond just a story of Legolas and this woman and instead has become more about relationships and the struggle to maintain them in tough times. Thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you continue to stick with me as I try to get you to the answers you are looking for.   
  
al & Legolas – LOL You and your commas I'm smiling all over again as I read your review. I see your mind wandered there a couple of times throughout. That's okay though. My mind wanders there constantly. I might need some of your countermoves should I give into to Tree's persuasions and write up some of those stories. I'll let you know. Yes, Legolas is very much like his Ada and he is very much a neat-freak. LOL Legolas and I soooooo would get along great; I was the same way with my crayons and markers—black, brown, purple, blue, green, red, orange and then yellow. They _had_ to go back in the box in that order. Don't even get me started on the box of 64 crayons! Hey melethron! Sorry you didn't like the kiss from Celebhil. He liked it! The woman will come, or will she? Or perhaps it will be Daewen? Or maybe it won't? Keep tapping those long fingers of yours. You'll get what's due to you, I promise.  
Um, yeah, that was intentional. Yeah. [Note to self: Run grammar check on Reviewer Responses]   
  
Melian – You and I must have a little math lesson, but it's makes me happy to hear that you enjoyed the humor of the last chapter. I enjoyed envisioning it all—"Thranduil Mode," the meat slicing. Our elf is very yummy when he's "Mad Elf" (c. TH). Nope, Legolas can't hear the trees as well as he used to sometimes. I've just always thought that about him, and I'm surprise more people don't. Galadriel's message makes it very clear that he'll no longer delight in the trees and I think that's partly due to the fact that the Call of the Sea is ever in his mind so he can't hear treesong as clearly anymore. Just my overactive imagination I guess. LOL I didn't mean for the trees being amused to turn into such a riddle for you, my dear. They were amused because they knew Aragorn was coming, and here Legolas and Celebhil were thinking the whole misunderstanding was settled. Trees have a wicked sense of humor, don't they? ::grin:: Ah, the women...Of all people, Melian, you should be most patient. I know I haven't told you all, but you know more than the others. Insert standard mantra here: "The answers will come. Be patient." LOL You are just as turned on by "Mad Elf" (c. TH) as I am it sounds. Hmmmmm, where'd that plot bunny go to? I'm glad you enjoyed the dinner and the dropped side-stories in the last chapter. I had quite the fun time coming up with those. I would be more than happy to inspire you for your own "Mad Elf" (c. TH) writing especially if that means seeing a new chapter coming from you. It's longer overdue than mine was. LOL Melian!!! No tongue from Celebhil! I have a hard time reining him in as it is; I can't have you egging him on. You'll get that story eventually, and Celebhil will get his tongue—er, I mean Legolas will get Celebhil's tongue. ::grin:: Thanks for your awesome review, nin mellon!!   
  
reginabean – Another new face! Welcome to you as well! Good to have you here! Alas, I bet your snow is gone now, isn't it? Mine is, and we are having beautiful weather in Minnesota, and here I am inside sitting at the 'puter and not out enjoying it. Oh well. Yes, Legolas was really mad at Aragorn, but that anger has shifted and it is now himself he is mad at. Of course, that won't be so when Talathion comes back. Look out, Tal! No, he won't stay mad, though I think by the time this story is through, he'll wish his anger had stayed. It is a much easier emotion to deal with, I think. We'll see.... Thanks for reviewing!   
  
Ithilien – It _is_ sad that Legolas can't hear the trees as he once had. I think that why I love Legolas in sea-angst so much. Here, he should be content and happy, for Shadow has been destroyed and he's made great friends, yet he is longing for something else, something that will take him away from those friends. I love that sense of yearning, and it makes our elf very laudable that he should be able to deny the Call for so long because of his friendships with Aragorn and Gimli. ::sigh:: What a loyal husband he would make. ::grin:: Yes, Aragorn should have known better than to snoop; he knows that now. He should have known that Legolas will not have leave without saying goodbye to his friends first. Or will he? LOL. "Sexual intent for our elf." LOL You must have her confused with me. ::grin:: I'm sorry my updates are slow. It takes awhile for the muse to recuperate, or to come back from his vacations. I'm hoping now that the weather is nicer, Legoals will stick around more and won't abandon me again. Thank for the great review, as always!   
  
taoist elf - Thanks for your reviews on chapter 1 and 2. I hope you can catch up soon. And I hope I can catch up quickly with you as well. Heehee, Legolas definitely is a dirty fighter, at least when it comes to Talathion. And yes, the elf did ask for the cut on his cheek. Bad karma indeed! I'm glad you love my Legolas! I love him too!   
  
  
  
Well, that's it for now. Don't know when the next update will come; hopefully, it won't be as long, but then again you know me, and my bratty muse.   
  
  
  
  


Happy Spring all!

  
  
  
  



End file.
